Secret Yearnings of Souls
by Second Wind
Summary: Sebastian & Ciel both wanted to leave the world without a loose-end. However, there's no such thing as perfection. An accident realized too late sets off a chain reaction of unlikely events that threaten the hard-won peace in between Hell, Earth & Heaven
1. Disclaimers and Introductions

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

_What do demons, humans, and angels have in common? _

Written by: Second Wind (Introducton - Final Chapter) & Co-Authored by GoodbyeMyHeart (Chapter 6 – Chapter 8ii)

Rating: Most probably M-rated, although there are long sections that can be K-rated.

Chapters: (Most likely) 12 chapters.

Pairing: Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis. Can also be considered as Undertaker & Sebastian Michaelis in some parts, though, because he does play one of the central roles…

Spoilers: The entire animated 'Kuroshitsuji' episodes.

Disclaimers: First and foremost, I do not have the pleasure nor the authority to claim the following characters as my own creation: Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel Phantomhive, the Undertaker, May Rin, Bardroy, Finnian, Tanaka, Lady Elizabeth Midford, Randol, Abberline, and the Ash/Angela character, because they all belong to Ms. Toboso YANA along with everything, the original creator of her comic masterpiece: "Kuroshitsuji". Kuroshitsuji the comic version is also available, but this story definitely takes after the ending of the animated version of the same story. The comics are published by Square Enix, as a part of G-Fantasy Comic Books, while the animated version is released by Aniplex. There is also a Nintendo DS game soft from Square Enix called "Kuroshitsuji – Phantom & Ghost", if you are interested. (The story of the game also takes the story arc of the animated version.)

Tips: This story will be more enjoyable, if you are 'very open-minded', and that you find the ideas introduced in episodes 17 through 24 most interesting. Also, I have taken liberty of slightly modifying (or modeling) the character of Sebastian Michaelis to a demon generally referred to as a 'Great Prince of Hell', and listed as one of the 72 demons that Solomon controlled until the Babylonians destroyed the pots in which the demons had been sealed. In the 'Lesser Keys of Solomon', the 36th is a demon called 'Prince Stolas'. You can easily find him on Wikipedia. Apparently, he 'commands 26 legions of demons and teaches astronomy and the knowledge of poisonous plants, herbs and precious stones. He is also depicted as either being a crowned owl with long legs, a raven, or a man'. Another book I found was written in Japanese and is an encyclopedia of Hell's residents by 'Fantasy World Researching Group' which was edited by 'Brain Navi' and published by Kosaido. In this book, Prince Stolas is also described as: "a demon that is relatively easy to summon, has much less devious characteristics compared to the others". Also, I found some references which described demons as capable of: giving births, impregnating humans, mixbreeding, be married, have fixed gender unlike the angels, have extremely high pain tolerance, and have souls. ...After which, I took a huge liberty of assigning some of the demon lords as Prince Stolas's blood-relatives. (You WILL understand the reasons for my choice, if you stick around long enough.)

Extra Tip: Please try and picture Sebastian from the comic series. I have noticed that in the animated version, Sebastian looks about 10 YEARS older than he does in comic series.

Remarks: This will be about the 5th fanfiction story that I write, although my very first (and most likely the only one for the animation story-arc) Kuroshitsuji story. My other 4 works had been for the X-Files. I had entirely original fictional works as well, but they remain unfinished and incomplete…

This story will also be 'very' long, because I never write anything short, aside from some poetry.

Okay, on with the story. I just hope that you will find my book interesting.


	2. Chapter 1

"Secret Yearnings of Souls"

Chapter 1: Gods Are Merciless Rulers…

The Gods were truly merciless.

Everybody who was anybody knew this for a fact.

What people said when they called a god merciful were either half-blind, or in deep denial. Gods were like humans most of the time. They made mistakes, betrayed others, and thought their actions were just.

"And,' Matilda Simmons mumbled, "If Gods were in fact merciful, then I would not be subjected to this level of humiliation and suffering."

Her hand strayed down to her belly once again. She had been doing this for the past several months and the number of times and length she has done so had increased as time passed - along with her affection and determination to keep the treasure - or the curse – safely inside her.

She remembered the man very well.

…Well, it was very easy, considering the fact that the priest had been her first, and the other - the father of the child that was currently growing inside of her - had been the only other.

"You will tell me the stories about this group, will you not?" That man - the father of her child - asked her. Well, in truth, he had been asking her, but his voice, and those deep, reddish brown eyes of his - had coaxed her, no, manipulated her, into 'talking' with him. What a devilishly handsome young man he had been.

She had to stop her thoughts upon catching herself using the word: 'devilish' when remembering about him. In truth, she knew he was not someone whom she could even imagine herself being with - at least not for very long. The fact that she had been the member of that cult group did not count.

Although his eyes tried to 'mask' his true nature, she felt the uneasiness - the intimidation - even when their brief encounter ended, and they moved on to the 'talk' part of their encounter. It had always been there - that darkness - throughout the whole ordeal.

Of course, she had been more than happy to forget everything - the entire world around her - while she was in his arms and watched 'him' move over her, and inside her. His movements gave her so many 'glimpses of the Heaven's Gates' or so she thought at the time, that she could not get enough of him. He also liked to talk - not exactly dirty - but not exactly clean, either. He also did not undress more than was absolutely necessary. He also did not kiss her on the lips. He did not need to, and since the whole thing had been a scheme to make her talk, he wanted his ears and her lips free of obstacles.

"Exactly where and how do you believe you will be 'filthy' from doing this?" That was the question he had asked, shortly before she nearly fainted from the force of her final climax. She felt she had shattered into a thousand pieces and cried out without a care about who heard. It was probably her fourth or fifth climax in those brief minutes - and his one and only time.

As soon as he was done, he let her legs down, commenting, "Well, something certainly smells in here." Then he withdrew himself, being careful to do so as cleanly as possible.

However, she barely registered any of it, because even as she still trembled from the after-shock, she felt her world darken around her - despite the lamp swinging lazily above them, and thought she saw an incredibly powerful flash of pink eyes with slit-shaped irisis, hungry and craving to devour her whole. That image haunted her and scared her so much, that her arousal - and their post coital afterglow, quickly evaporated. So quickly, in fact, that she had no trouble straightening herself when he handed her the dress (robe) back to wear. He had been very quick to get himself back into his clothes - for he only took off his shoes, black socks, and the pair of uniform pants - before they ever got started.

What she did not expect was for him to call all his friends (well, his 'master' and a certain gay friend) right back inside the barn where they had been engaging in their sinful acts just minutes before. She had no qualms about telling them everything that they wanted to know from her. They parted silently afterwards.

Unbeknownst to either of them, though, something did linger in between them. Had she not been in the cathedral when that fateful mass began, she would not have learned just how bad a card fate dealt her for her 'weaknesses'. Ignorance truly was bliss. Although that man whom the earl called 'Sebastian' and the visitor book - or what could be salvaged of it when the whole cult disbanded - stated the man's name as 'Sebastian Michaelis' - which matches what the angel called him. His visitor book entry also stated his social status as 'a butler'. However, had this been true, he would not have had so much hold on her life.

As for the 'Young Master', she had no idea of the name other than 'Earl' and 'Ciel P.', because the visitor log had been completely destroyed, making the rest of his family name invisible. She did not know where they lived nor where they came from - save from the true address of this 'Sebastian'.

"You cannot very well send a letter to Hell, can you?" She wondered aloud. She tried to read a few books about demons and how to contact them, but nothing said anything about how to simply contact a demon who was already serving for a specific master. If she ever tried summoning one, she would end up summoning an entirely different demon, which was an idea she found to be beyond her comprehension.

Some things were already clear, though. Heaven was no longer going to take her soul when she passed away, for she had been 'marked' by the demon butler, as he himself had told that terrible angel. She knew from the start, that the man would never be hers beyond their encounter. That thought saddened and relieved her at the same time.

At nights, and during her most lonesome periods, her memories troubled her. She could not get enough of him - even after she learned what he truly was. His lovemaking technique was perfect, for starters. His expressions could have improved a lot, since he seemed so impersonal and just 'inside his own head' while he was taking pleasures out of their act. She also could not erase the memories of the way he fought with the blood-thirsty angel. The fluid movements of his limbs, and the finesse with which he threw the knives, mesmerized her. The technique and the art of battle he had mastered must have been first-rate, just as his probably many other skills - being a demon and a predator of human souls.

Compared to Sebastian, the priest had been pathetic. He surely possessed the divine-like powers that brought many men, women, and children down to their knees, but he was 'brutal' for the lack of a better expression - during many of their 'coital bliss'. Carnal pleasures were masked as cleansing of the 'tainted' souls, when in fact they had only been acts of rape or episodes of aggressive adrenaline rush, committed only for the priest to prey on the truly clueless - which were in themselves sins worth being thrown into Hell.

The earl - a boy of no more than 13 years of age - issued the execution order for the demon to carry out.

"Yes, my Lord." How simple a reply - yet, it carried such a heavy weight within its few words.

Of course, considering the fact that Sebastian was not a human being, and therefore, incapable of feeling many of the human emotions for himself, she supposed she could not blame him for this seeming lack of morality.

Which brought forth the question: Can demons feel these emotions, or are they purposefully not showing them? Or, do they consider such emotions as waste of sorts, and consider them all as something that is beneath them? But then, how do they see 'moral' and 'virtue' as they are taught and valued among humans? …Those are questions that she can only dare to ask the beautiful demon herself.

'Those eyes,' her thoughts kept returning to those eyes… 'They had such a powerful, captivating shade of reddish-brown.' She could only compare those eyes to the color of dark tea - maybe Darjeeling. She kept being reminded of his eyes every time she had dark tea, which may have contributed to her switching to herbal tea ever since her 'condition' became obvious to the entire world.

Since she realized her predicament, she was left with very little choice but to go into hiding. She had to keep lying, which she hated to do, and she cursed her fate silently: every time someone asked for her name; every time a concerned stranger asked her what was wrong; every time when good Samaritans let her into their homes to stay. In fact, the few truths which she could give them were truths that could not stay hidden: she had been impregnated, and that the father of the baby had 'left' both she and the unborn child inside her.

Although the horrible times of 'witch-hunt' had long since passed, there had been a number of villages and towns where old tales still ruled. She knew that - if she was to have this child and carry it to full term - she would have to come up with a perfect piece of fiction that was believable to everyone. If any significant 'differences in appearance' were recognized when the baby was compared to normal human babies, she would worry about them later.

However, she was just too honest, too straight, and too far from 'adequate' in the creative field, to keep a roof over herself and her child, much less keeping them both safe and fed, forever by herself. Nope, she only had one option: Go to the Earl. It was not in her interest to get Sebastian into any trouble.

Whether the noble boy knew about his able butler's true identity was a mystery, but she knew that if anyone was in a position to help her and her unborn child, it would have to be someone who knew of their indiscretion. …Well, if not 'help' her, maybe they just could kill her along with the cursed child, and allow her to rid herself of this wretched world and her miserable life.

If her memory served her correctly, the boy also had an eye patch over his right eye, and had a silver ring with a large square blue stone on his thumb. She remembered this, because it was such a peculiar place to wear such a ring. Then, she remembered that 'Sebastian' wore a lapel pin – a silver one with an intricate design, most probably a family crest, shaped like a two-headed bird with a crown in the center.

She could use these memories to find out exactly who the boy was. She was certainly getting closer, albeit in slow pace due to her having to walk or fetch rides all the way. However, the places she had stayed in were often bars, diners, and little cottages where people from all walks of life gathered around, exchanging information and news from faraway lands. Many of them recognized the description of the boy, though a majority of them had to do with rather shady businesses.

She had gathered a substantial amount of information over time, and what she did gather proved her instincts to be correct. The earl was being feared, respected, and hated in equal parts, with a reputation for ruthless means of obtaining justice and is rumored to have a vast amount of wealth.

She had to hurry, though, because her increasing body weight was burdening her more than she ever bargained for. However, the odds were against her this night. - One too many odds.

The village she was passing through to finally take herself to London just happened to be a tad too superstitious, and just happened to have a fortuneteller who was credible enough to call herself as such – as a resident. It also happened to be one of the fortuneteller's three aids who took pity on her and offered her shelter for the night on that fateful night.

All went downhill from then and there. The fortuneteller nearly knocked her chair down at the first glance in her haste to stand – and to flee the room. In shock, Matilda nearly bolted out of the door, but was caught in the powerful arms of the other visitor of the fortuneteller: a warden from a neighboring town who was seeking information on a recent string of murders that targeted fortunetellers and suspected witches in the region. Matilda only found this out after she was caught and imprisoned in the fortune teller's basement, and the interrogation began.

"I saw the shadow of evil - in you, and in the child you carry inside." The fortuneteller said, over and over whenever Matilda asked for the warden's respite and mercy. They kept throwing questions at Matilda day and night, for weeks, never giving her the time or a place to truly relax.

In the end, Matilda's pregnancy called for her tormenters to keep her settled until she carried the said 'devil's child' to full term. The fact that she had been involved with a cult group that had recently perished had earned her pitiful looks from the villagers who regarded her as one of those unfortunate cases of a lost soul.

The fortuneteller, although she was trusted by the villagers, had no way to prove her suspicions to the actual authorities. Therefore, it was decided that they would wait for the child to be born before determining the legitimacy of the fortune-teller's claim.

Strangely enough, though, Matilda did not despise the child for being inside her. She also did not exactly harbor any ill-will toward 'Sebastian'. She only wished for a rescuer. Mentally, she calculated the days remaining until her child would be due, and figured she only had about two months. With the way things were going for her, there was no way she could escape into the night and look for the Earl.

The news of London burning reached her ears on the eve of her child's birth. The fortuneteller claimed this as an omen, and the whole village - which eagerly awaited the child's birth - was in uproar. The labor was a long, horrific, and painful affair that made Matilda scream herself hoarse. So exhausted was she, and in so much discomfort and pain, that she did not notice the lone raven that flew across the window which overlooked the meager interior of the basement. It grabbed the thin tree branch that offered the best view of the room, and observed the entire scene unfolding in front of its eyes, its bloodied beak from a recent feeding gleaming in the setting sun.

The raven leaned forward and flattered its wings at the sound of a particularly piercing scream, and the familiar wail of a newborn child. The only town doctor - called in for this occasion - immediately caught the child as it exited its mother's body. He saw that, though bloody and slimy with fluids, the child - quite obviously male - had all the limbs attached in their proper places. The child also weighed a little shy of 4 kilograms in weight when he was weighed by the midwife.

Half a dozen nurses bustled about, busily carrying out soiled towels and garments and basins full of soiled water. The child kept wailing - although the sound carried an unfamiliar, almost unnerving, weight behind each wail. Just then, another wail - this one from an elderly woman - was heard from another room, calling out to whoever is willing to listen that this was 'unmistakably a devil's child'.

However, the authorities - who were also awaiting the child's arrival in the next room - did not agree to make that decision official until she at least could prove to them that this child was in fact evil. Their doubt was founded on the fact that no one in their town had ever found the unfortunate young lady to be 'evil'.

The doctor then called in the now-cowering fortuneteller inside the room for inspection.

The woman was brought in, nearly being dragged inside the room by two burly guards.

The doctor received the child - now bathed and ready to be fed by the mother, though that would have to wait due to the fact that the young woman was unconscious from her ordeal - then, held the new born to be presented to the fortune-teller.

The elderly woman again backed up a few spaces, and the doctor shifted his position to show the child more clearly and in better view of the terrified woman.

The guards nearly laughed at her, finding the old woman to be hysterical and more or less comical. However, just like everything else about this pregnancy, something else did go wrong when the child actually moved, reaching its tiny hands toward one of the doctor's thumbs which just happened to be the closest to his face. And bit down into the soft flesh. Hard.

The doctor cried out as he watched in astonishment the small river of blood which spilled out of the surprisingly deep wound, and ran down to his elbow, while the rest fell onto the soft white towel which the child was wrapped in, and was absorbed.

"AHHHH! What the ….!! You! You…. Devil's child!" The doctor was now in hysterics, and instead of dropping the child, he threw the boy toward the stunned guards. One caught him by instinct, then immediately stuffed the baby's mouth with a corner of the towel to keep the baby's mouth full. …That was when he saw the row of perfect, though tiny, fangs already gleaming inside the child's mouth, now stained red by the doctor's fresh blood.

Still keeping watch perched atop the branch, the raven departed when the child was carried out of the room and handed over to the authorities. The fortune-teller's cries of triumph over her discovery of this 'devil's child' were heard loud and clear throughout the establishment - and by the curious onlookers who began to surround the entire building.

The raven kept flying despite the darkness that already descended. It kept flying without a break, for a few hours until it reached the tree-covered tiny island, where its master awaited.

"Good work." Its master welcomed his most faithful guard. He then invited the bird to rest in his arms, cradling its slight weight and warming its rapidly-cooling legs in his palm as he listened to the bird report its findings to him. The master's face immediately registered shock, then anger that quickly developed into a barely-contained rage. However, his 'rage' was not just directed to the situation at hand, but also to himself, for his carelessness and stupidity.

"Again, good work. Come with me. We are going back, for now." He said as he cleaned up - although not before he carefully plucked one of the wild flowers and placed it over the now barely-present meager remaining of a human child lying over the stone bench. The raven cried once, expressing his own 'gratitude' toward the remains of his master's last - and much awaited - meal for providing his 'body' to him in his last words.

"Yes. I promise, I will let you meet him for real when we get home."

His master said as he opened the portal to return to the Underworld, where his palace awaited its owner's return after a long absence.


	3. Chapter 2

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 2: You are on THE LIST

"I have a job for you."

…This was what Ciel Phantomhive – the very recently deceased human child of thirteen years, heard when his demon 'lord', Prince Stolas visited him. The Prince still appeared in his human form, and wore the Phantomhive Butler's uniform whenever he was meeting Ciel privately. Ciel thought it was an effort his new lord was making on Ciel's behalf – to ease the transition process into this new life.

"…What would you like me to do, My Lord?"

The boy asked with his customary, melancholy look in his deep blue eye. The other eye, though it did not need to be, was covered by a soft black leather eye patch. His 'ex-butler' who was also his 'current owner' smiled a little as he took a seat opposite the young boy. This was one of the many things that were not allowed to do when their roles were reversed during the boy's time among the living. Prince Stolas spoke as he leaned closer toward his former master. The mannerism with which he spoke reminded Ciel of 'Sebastian Michaelis in a tutor mode'.

"It is a very, very important job. It is also something that must remain undercover, and which I can only entrust you to carry out. For now, at least."

"It sounds like something I am used to doing." Ciel commented. The expression on the boy's face, as well as the tone of his voice showed that he was unfazed. He spoke to the Prince with an unmistakable air of respect.

"For the Queen of England, you mean." The prince's eyebrows rose momentarily, as if to drive the point home.

"Yes." The boy nodded, his gaze telling the prince silently that he did indeed get the point.

"Well, since our roles have changed quite a bit, along with our surroundings, I guess you can replace 'The Queen of England' with 'Me', your new keeper." Prince Stolas stated.

To call this new chapter of Ciel's life as 'new life' was fitting in many ways. Ciel Phantomhive – in his previous life – had been an extremely well-regarded Earl of Phantomhive, a powerful and wealthy noble with the authority to carry out the darkest duties for the Queen of England. It would have been harder to create a list of what Ciel did not have than what he did have.

However, a whole lot has changed in Ciel's new life. For one, Ciel Phantomhive no longer had a heartbeat, for he is dead. He also barely had a soul, because his new lord took it out of him, then consumed what he needed to, before deciding to not only keep the rest, but to give it a corporeal body. After Ciel had been revived, he was so weak and frail due to the fact that his soul was nearly gone. As a result, Prince Stolas could not keep Ciel's soul 'around him' all the time, unlike his other human 'souls' who were both very much healthy and rather enjoying their respective afterlife.

After Prince Stolas had recovered his own strength, he went ahead with a super-secret project on his own and forged a huge room in the basement of his own palace. The Prince then removed all the air out of the room to make it an airless 'vacuum space', then secretly traveled to the place which is commonly called 'Limbo', and trapped a section of its air within a vast energy field he created. He had to try several times before succeeding. He then returned to his palace and into the airless space, never forgetting to seal it up completely, before he let go of the energy field to fill the room with the Limbo air.

In the end, this was the place in which he had brought Ciel, and eventually made it into the boy's own room. Freed from the stress and the gravitational pull - for Hell still had gravity – Ciel recovered rather quickly. Sebastian had spent many nights in this 'bubble' he had created for his latest acquisition, and watched over the boy anxiously. It almost felt as if they had gone back to their old life - to those first days and weeks when Stolas, as Sebastian Michaelis had watched over the little boy and nursed him slowly, and extremely carefully, back to health.

Time passes rather quickly in his section of Hell, though, and this has served him well. This meant that a day spent up on Earth was an equivalent of one whole month in Stolas's territory. Of course, there were other sections of Hell in which time passed much faster, or much slower, depending on where you were. As a result, he had the time to bring in pieces of furniture little by little, starting with the four-poster bed like the one Ciel had back at his own manor. Stolas had Ciel's room lit up by multiple lamp lights, though they were lit not by candles, but by a bunch of tiny bugs that were normally used to guide the lost souls toward their rightful paths after passing. Stolas also gave the boy a comfortable armchair, a desk made of stone since there simply was no tree which would have been suitable for making furniture out of, and lastly, a walk-in closet to hang up his clothes. Yes, Ciel did have clothes just like he had at the manor, only slightly modified to fit 'the surroundings'.

However, these things were not exactly Ciel Phantomhive's possessions. They all belonged to his new lord. Besides, Ciel had to quickly get used to the idea that he, too, was a possession now. This meant that he had no social status whatsoever other than what his lord finds suitable to give him. He had no money here, either, because he had nowhere to spend it on. He had no freedom, because he was still too frail to get out of this bubble and 'play nice with the others' or to see the outside world. The biggest sign of his improvement was the air. The room was no longer filled only with the air from the Limbo, but the regular, heavy air of Stolas's castle. This had served him well, because Stolas no longer had to have every piece of furniture here bolted down. Although Ciel did enjoy the weightlessness in the Limbo air, it was unnerving and quite inconvenient after a while.

Ciel found it ironic that what he no longer had were those which should have been found closest to home: his vital signs. Oh, yes. Many a noble have called Ciel Phantomhive 'heartless'. If those people found out his current predicament, they would have a field day, because they were now correct: Ciel Phantomive no longer had a heartbeat, nor running blood, because although Stolas has managed to give him a body, it was not alive. He could still breathe, move around, and could even sweat like Stolas used to sweat, and he could even taste sweets and tea as he used to do – although he now would have to be content with the tea and food that had been created out of thin air, like a well-made illusion. In the end, that was what drove the point home to Ciel: nothing much about him was no longer 'real'. Nothing but what remained of his soul.

However, what Ciel found most endearing was the fact that Price Stolas still allowed Ciel to call him 'Sebastian'. The name 'Sebastian' – which Prince Stolas has taken a liking to, was still allowed inside this particular household, although it was strictly forbidden when they were in the presence of others.

While they were not alone - although such occasions were extremely rare - his new lord had to dress up to match his true status. Ciel still remembered vividly the shock he received the first time he saw Sebastian Michaelis, his former butler, in all his glory when he took Ciel to be introduced to the rest of the household and to announce his return to the entire world of Hell. The demons he controlled had chanted his name in a unified chorus, while some played the violin.

…Well, Ciel did not yet have his 'body' back then, so it was not like he could make a self introduction, but he strangely could remember everything he has seen, smelled, heard, and tasted – before the demon prince gave him his new body.

But, out of everything else about Prince Stolas that surprised Ciel, what he found most troublesome to adjust to, was the jeweled crown of an intricate design which Stolas wore on his head as if it was a part of his body. This was no ordinary crown, either. Ciel could see the jewels embedded in Stolas's crown radiating what he could only call 'mists' or an energy field of its own making, from every pointed corner. This was also not as elaborate as a king's crown. From a short distance away, you would think the whole thing was made of silver and gold wires with the precious stones attached at every pointed corner.

However, when seen up-close, you discover that the crown had clearly been 'forged' out of one solid piece of platinum on the outside, while the inner frame was forged out of another solid piece of gold. What made the frame look like a bunch of wires were the many gaping holes and the thinness of each line that ran from stone to stone. The stones each had holes in them, and actually been embedded into the precious metal by having the liquefied metal poured into their holes while forging the intricate, jugged design.

Ciel was rather surprised to discover, though, that this crowned version of Stolas looked better with his natural eye color of simmering deep pink with crimson hue.

Stolas's attire had also seen drastic changes. The only similarity to the butler uniform was its primary color of black. But, the fabric was obviously different, as well as the design. The boots he wore all had distinct eccentric features (such as pin-heels, jugged-edged heels, spiked soles, and what Ciel found most shocking – dragon skin boots with bits of sliced sections of ridged dragon teeth which had been modified into heels. However, Ciel also learned that his lord's most treasured pair was what looked to be made of solid metal with soft leather lining which was created just for him by one of the Valkyrie warriors, although he was sketchy on the details.

The banquet that followed the return ceremony, however, had Ciel retching for a long time. He had NO IDEA what (or more like 'who') his new lord was drinking, but Ciel had no trouble identifying what the huge glass had been filled with. That metallic smell was unmistakable.

However, his new lord was currently in Ciel's 'bubble', dressed in the familiar Phantomhive butler uniform, and staring into his azure eye with his reddish brown human eyes. Ciel took a deep breath and replied.

"Sebastian, I know full-well what my place is, and a whole lot about what yours is. Just give me the explanation, state your business and my duties, then either kindly advise me, or leave me be." Ciel met his lord's eyes straight.

"Every bit a noble, you are…" Stolas said fondly.

"That is why you kept me with you. I know that as well." Ciel spoke in the way Stolas is used to seeing the boy do in front of the royalty and, of course, the Queen of England: Victoria.

"There had been many other reasons."

"I knew that you were someone of high stature and class, Sebastian, even while I was alive. That, among 'many other reasons' of my own, was why I came back to you. Twice." Ciel stated, wanting no misunderstandings in between them.

"…Very well."

"What are my duties, my lord?"

"…I want you to care for my newborn child."

"W-WHAT?! … I, I mean, your… We have not been 'back here' for long. Why didn't you tell me…?!" Ciel stuttered, not expecting anything of this magnitude to fall on his shoulders. Stolas kept his calm and finished the boy's sentence for him, having expected this type of reaction.

"…That, I had a child waiting to be born?"

"YES! I could have done something to help you, while I still was an Earl, and while I was still alive!"

"Unfortunately, I myself had no knowledge of this until just now. I had my aid investigate it, when I felt something 'tug' at the corner of my mind. I felt a loose-end, of sort, still left in that world and wanted to know what it was. I was just as surprised as you were."

"But, you hardly left my side during all…" Ciel stopped just then, and fell silent while his mind worked furiously. Stolas just let him. It didn't take long for Ciel to figure out the answer. "…That woman you seduced back at that Cult group's place?"

"The very one. A Matilda Simmons."

"Is something like this even possible? And… And, why didn't the Undertaker tell us about it when you were fighting with Angela? It should have showed up in her cinematic record!"

"If you can recall, our situation was rather dire, and none of us had the luxury of turning back the pages until I showed up as her seducer. For a human to successfully conceive a child from a demon is extremely rare and it is nearly unheard of. Most attempts to make cross-breed demon children with any species, end in failure. Some are deliberately made to be still-born, just to spite the human mothers. As for my own experiences in mating with humans, I do admit to have done it many times in the past, but I have never had an offspring."

"I am not all that familiar with the… biology and mechanism of …this subject, but…"

"Ciel, you were only 13 years-old when you died. Of course, you are not versed on this subject, let alone one involving 'our' biology."

"Well, as I recall, you did a wonderful job of keeping me away from those subjects, my lord." Ciel shot Stolas a defiant look.

"It probably had to do with my having a human body at the time when the conception happened." Stolas contemplated, his mind working to digest this new development, and what it meant for him.

"When you were indulging yourself in dark pleasure?" Ciel retorted, just a little. Stolas narrowed his glowing eyes and showed his annoyance with the human child.

"I was doing so, only for you and the information she had." Stolas's voice quickly took on a strange tone. Ciel recognized the look immediately, and jumped to cover his mistake.

"I meant no ill-will, my lord. That saved us a lot of time and grief."

Ciel was careful not to offend the demon prince. It was not that he was being threatened or anything, but he was still intimidated for he knew full-well what this demon prince could do once you got on his bad side. Ciel breathed to ease the tension that begun to build in the vast room. Stolas remained silent.

"My Lord, Could you please tell me some things?" Ciel asked and politely waited for Stolas's reply.

"Okay. What is it that you want to know?" Stolas asked, just as politely.

"First of all, I am in this… place you forged in your territory just to keep me, is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"And I have no soul, because I offered it to you and you accepted it."

"That is where you are wrong. You do still have a soul. Just not …the same soul you had while you were alive. I …gave you a body after our return here, because that was the only way I could bring you back. I have taken a lot out of your soul – first to grow my lost arm back, and to replenish the strength I had lost in that final battle with Ash. As for my taking your soul, it was in accordance with our contract."

"And because of that, and because you …approved of me, I am here in the Underworld, inside your own palace, suspended in this special space that is an 'in-between' of sort that is much like the Limbo, and not crawling and wasting away in the ash-filled, ghouls-filled pit of the 9th circle."

"Correct again. …Which was why I asked you whether you truly wanted to become a 'God-killer' during our battle with Grell, because it would have thrown you into the 9th circle, no questions asked."

"But, one has to be 'soulless' to be residing in Limbo."

"Yes, but this is not 'the Limbo". This particular room was built in order to simulate the Limbo atmosphere."

"But, you have already told me that your child is a new-born child. Doesn't it have a soul?"

"Yes, 'he' does." Stolas put weight on the 'he'.

"…Okay, so it is a son. That means you have an heir to the throne you will eventually inherit. Why are you asking 'me' to care for him?"

"Because, although he has committed no crime aside from being born and expressing his desire to be fed, none of the three worlds that make up this universe will accept this particular child."

"That seems unfair." Ciel furrowed his eyebrows, still wondering why in the world a child would need to be excluded from all that a child normally desires.

Sensing his thoughts, Stolas clarified this matter for Ciel, and Stolas pulled no punches while doing just so.

"A child born in between a human and a noble demon creates a problem. Because, for one, no sane human being will accept a demon child once he starts showing his true nature. Two, not even the most merciful of Gods will open up the gates of Heaven for a creature of darkness and evil. Three, no one in my world – the Underworld, that is, will approve of him and his existence, because humans are seen as nothing higher than animals. Domesticated animals, I mean. We prey on you. You are food to us, most of the time. Imagine mating with your cow, and had a child. Would you raise him? Put him in school? Attend school meetings? No, you don't. You'd stash him someplace where no one can find him."

"…Okay. I see your point." The blunt way he spoke about his own race hurt Ciel's feelings, but in many ways, this put things into perspective for Ciel.

"Thank you." Stolas nodded his appreciation.

"So, how come are you talking to me as thought this child will soon be dead?"

"Because they have already figured out what he is, and has been keeping the mother locked up in a basement. The newborn child has been handed over to the authorities, as my aid has reported to me, and is now being kept in a barren cage placed at the local police department building, and without much nourishment."

"Oh …that is terrible." Ciel dropped his gaze, remembering his own time spent inside a locked and barren metal cage.

"My eyes, although as a human male, they had been reddish-brown, they really are not."

"I have gotten used to their dark simmering pink of late."

"The child would most likely have had my natural eyes, along with the row of fine, sharp fangs."

"The moment he was born?"

"That is correct."

"How is that possible, though?"

"Because, we the demons eat flesh, and drink blood."

"…Those are the vampires' characteristics."

"There are well more than 100 noble demons in this world, Ciel. Although I do not eat the flesh of those I have contract with, it does not mean that the others wouldn't. Besides, we need flesh and souls to nourish us, just like humans need to eat solid food."

"…"

"I quit doing that, unless the situations are truly dire, because I do not feel that it is for me. The souls are good enough most of the time. …So, do you see now why I was so much against the idea of consuming human blood, even when it was offered to me freely?" Stolas gave Ciel a searching look, and it made the boy feel uncomfortable, at the same time a little depressed.

"…Yes. …So, why do babies need a set of fangs?" Ciel pushed forward, wanting a change of subject. Stolas shifted in his seat, receiving the boy's silent request and granting it.

"We do not drink milk. When we are babies, we drink blood straight out of the mother – and / or other demons – to nourish us. Fangs are there, so that the child can actually bite through the mother's skin to draw blood. Milk, too, is a modified form of blood. We just do not bother 'changing' it from its original form."

"…"

"The humans are slow to heal from wounds. The mother will most likely be dead in a week from the blood loss. Mother's milk is no use to the demon baby."

"You said that some people found out what your …son is. What will happen to the child and its mother?"

"Well, you see, the boy has shown the fangs when he first began wailing and bit down on the first person he knew had come for 'him'." Stolas replayed the scenes in his memory, which his spy raven had given him via telepathy soon after their return to this palace.

"…What?! …How did that happen?!" As predicted, Ciel's eyes were round as saucers.

"The baby was hungry, obviously. He must have thought that whoever picked him up was there to 'feed' him."

"So, the baby…"

"I must wait for the updates from my most trusted sources, but he will most likely be starved to death deliberately, or be handed over to the church. He won't survive once the priests and bishops begin exorcism and other foolish rituals."

"The mother…?" Ciel had lost whatever color he had regained since 'waking up' in this palace. He had no idea how in the world Stolas could keep himself so calm and objective about this issue.

"She is being held in confinement, and is again being interrogated. She is now being treated very harshly - without food or water to recover from her reportedly very difficult labor. She won't survive, either."

"Oh…" Now, Ciel literally felt nauseated. Seeing the boy's honest reaction, Stolas's gaze softened a notch.

"I have to go, Ciel. I'll return here, with the child." Stolas declared as he got back on his feet.

"…Understood. There is just one thing I need to ask." Ciel pushed, knowing Stolas was not feeling as unaffected by this turn of events as he appeared. As if to prove this fact, Stolas did not turn back to face Ciel.

"You can ask, but please hurry."

"For 'you' to be able to return here with a 'lifeless' child, do you not have to be the one who… will have to take his life, so that you can 'carry back his soul to this place?"

"Yes, just as I had to be the one to deliver death to you." Stolas's voice softened, carrying the weight of his duties. He began to make his way toward the door to leave.

"…I never thought I would say this to you, Sebastian, but… I truly am very sorry." Ciel dropped his gaze further, his shoulders sagging a bit.

"…Thank you. Now, I really must go."

"You know I will be here."

Stolas turned his head a little toward him, then nodded and closed his eyes. – Just a split second before finally leaving the room in a whirlpool of black feathers.

Undertaker's Shop

An Unnamed Street

London, England

On Earth: 13 Hrs After the birth of the child

In Prince Stolas's Territory: 2nd Week of the Prince's Disappearance

Although Stolas had no idea how to rescue his child, he knew who and where to go to for help.

In a dark corner of a London's back street alleyway, he found it – intact and open for business, although he did not wish to go inside unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Excuse me. May I speak with the…?" Stolas did not have to go any further before the 'retired' Death God / The Under Taker interrupted.

"Oh? Back from the pits of hell, already hunting for more souls?" The Undertaker said, walking out of the darkness and into the light. Whether or not the Undertaker's words were spoken with the intension of hurting Stolas's feelings, they stung him, because they were true.

"…Something like that. Although, I need to make this clear to you. This one is no contract holder."

"I heard something unsettling recently, about a fortune teller seeing the face of the devil inside this… nun with a cult group. Does that ring a bell?"

"You know about that?!" Stolas was shocked, and failed to hide it.

"That is what this is all about, is it not?"

"Yes, it is."

"What did you want to ask me?"

"I want you to… make sure 'she' can go to heaven."

"By saying that, do you mean that you are not going to…?" The Undertaker made a motion with his fingers, mimicking a deathly slash to the throat. Stolas shook his head, actually feeling uncomfortable at the very thought.

"No. She thought… She actually thought that she saw the gates of Heaven while she was 'with me'. I want you to humor us, and actually deliver her to Heaven. I do not intend to harm her soul in any way."

"Okay, but the baby will most likely be denied entrance to Heaven."

"I already figured that out, and I have …plans, to keep his identity safely hidden." Stolas had no idea why he felt reluctant to just spit out everything and tell him straight out that Ciel is to be the designated care-taker, and his discomfort showed.

Undertaker then motioned for Stolas to be seated.

"Well, since I am not a stranger to either of you, I will be honest with you." Undertaker began, running his long black-nailed hands through his bushy, hip-length silver hair.

Stolas caught the glimpse of Undertaker's usually hidden eyes then, and found himself nailed to the spot. He literally could not move a muscle, and had no idea why.

"Prince Stolas, ranked 36th among the 72 'demons of King Solomon'. – Or, 'Sebastian Michaelis', as you were baptized by the late Earl of Phantomhive: Ciel Phantomhive, when you were first assigned as the butler of the Phantomhive household…"

The usually-goofy, high-pitched tone of voice he was accustomed to hear from the Undertaker was gone. In its place, came a stern, clear, and for the lack of a better word, 'merciless' voice of a God – a Death God – who sent many brave souls to the pits of hell, trembling in fear and begging for mercy they never received. "You were about to be summoned, but we the Death God Management Department thank you for coming in voluntarily."

For the very first time in a very, very long time, Stolas felt, tasted, and saw 'fear' in himself. He had instilled 'fear' in countless others in his long life, and had been afraid for Ciel many times, sure, but this fear was directed at Sebastian – or Prince Stolas - himself.

This metallic, foreign, and rich taste of fear clung to him and covered him from head to toe. The Undertaker fixed his unnervingly emotionless gaze on a rapidly paling Stolas, and seated himself behind the counter.

"So, you did notice it. Finally." …Was what the older God said. Stolas breathed in short, quick bursts.

"You are… You are going to…?" Stolas hated the tremor in his voice.

"You are on the list, my noble demon. This is the procedure to take before you are to be brought before me again for the final judgment. You have this opportunity to review your own life, and give opinions or witness accounts to aid us in order to make the best and most informed judgment."

"Oh, my…"

Stolas had never been this way before. He never truly cared if he lived or died. That resulted in his rather reckless behaviors while he was still younger. Spreading Black Death in Europe more than 500 years ago had been one of them. He'd feasted on souls like a starving man would attack a buffet. There was no need for manners, and even less regard for 'principles' and 'grace'.

The elder demons once punished him by starving him to very near death and by chaining him to a wall while he was forced to witness the brutal executions of fellow demons that had broken the taboos of the demonic world. Still, he didn't feel any 'fear'. He just felt boredom.

After he matured and calmed down, he showed interest in studies and excelled at everything he learned. He loved the violin especially. Music kept him company, and he never got tired of playing it with other demons as well. He also learned to cook, and hunted many souls who simply fell for his magic food. He excelled at the art of lovemaking; not just with humans, but with other magical, sometimes even holy, beings that just could not refuse his advances. But, this was, many thought, a characteristic he had inherited from his father, the great Asmodeus.

Hell was, 'like heaven must be', he thought, an excellent place for learning. Many scholars were here, who passed on all sorts of knowledge in exchange for borrowed time. Over time, Stolas gained knowledge and desire to get away – to really leave this Hell, and do something worthwhile with his newfound wisdom. He did find one, eventually, who demanded everything he had gained, who pushed his every limit, and furthered all his abilities.

No one, not even once in his long, long life, had he encountered a being who actually 'chose' and 'wished' to give him – a demon – one's soul.

"Your authorities – well, they were going to give you some kind of promotion, were they not?"

"Yes, they were. I was to be… taking over the throne officially, and be ranked as nearly an equal to 'the elders' although I am not that 'eld'.

"This was for…?"

"For corrupting and destroying an angel, and for revealing his crimes against his own kind, as well as to the human kind. Also, for the number of humans I have killed in the name of my then-master: Earl Phantomhive, and for successfully completing his contract with me. His soul was held in very much high regard amongst my kin."

"Not a lot of other demons found this very amusing, did they?"

"No. They sure did not."

"I guess that is why you are on the list. You left Hell to cover up a serious breach of protocol."

"But, demons have traditionally indulged in sexual relationships with humans. Including my own father. I don't get it."

"Actually, you would have gotten away with that tid-bit, if you played the cards carefully."

"…Well then, …I do not understand."

"Ahh, you are still young, my demon prince."

"….."

"It is not your son, nor that poor woman, who is your downfall."

"Then… Ciel?"

"The one and only."

"Why…? He is in Hell. He is kept in the safe place I forged for him in my palace. He cannot…"

"It is not his fault. He just loved you, as any human child would love a… a father, a friend, and a hero, whatever. You, on the other hand…" Undertaker raised his eyebrow, to which Stolas narrowed his in annoyance.

"For a demon, the biggest crime is to love a human being as anything other than food and objects for satisfying sexual urges, as well as an object for ridicule."

"Exactly."

"There's something else, isn`t there?"

"What do you mean? With Matilda? I don't think so."

"No, not with her. I meant, with your kin."

"What… are you implying?"

"Think really hard about who you are speaking to, demon, and ask yourself why did you keep the boy, when he came back to you the second time?"

"The angel …Ash, I mean. …What a fitting name… Really repulsed me. The boy was with me, and even when I abandoned him, or because I abandoned him, he put everything back into perspective, and I admired him for that. I also admired him for his soul and the depth of his heart. They really …shone brightly when he actually wished to be 'worthy', for the lack of a better word, of my standards for a contract holder."

"You really loved him, then."

"…I had not realized that was what it was."

"Did you not feel the same when he came back to you, to us, the first time?"

"In the Death God's library? I thought he was insane. No being has ever done that. I mean, Ash/ Angela was evil, but she was still an angel. No one, up until then, chose revenge and resolve and hate over a promise of Heaven, even if that particular heaven was a fake one. …Yet, Ciel refused to be free of me."

"You two truly caused a stir among us Death Gods and angels. I remember your expression very well."

"My… expression?"

"The expression on your face when you first saw him lying in Angela's arms and his cinematic record was being 'cleansed' of you." The Undertaker raised his eyebrows in question, and saw the demon prince swallow hard. Seeing that reaction made the Undertaker plod the prince a bit harder.

"That was horrifying."

"It really wasn't just about all your hard work going to waste if he forgot about you, was it?"

"Well…" Stolas looked like a guilty man looking for a loophole. The Undertaker decided to put the prince in his place.

"Demon. Remember who you are facing."

"Okay. Yes, you are correct. I… couldn't bear having him in my charge, if he were to forget what his life really had been like. I cannot imagine explaining it all to him, and breaking him apart again."

"And yet, that was exactly what you should have wished for, demon, if you were to stay with your true nature."

"But, I didn't. I couldn't even imagine doing that to 'him'."

"Ask yourself why."

"Ciel …really pushed my every limit. He demanded so much out of me, and challenged me with every chance he had. But…strangely enough, I did not find all that unpleasant. He wasn't doing all that to …hurt me or harm me in any way, either. I could feel that his actions were not out of 'hatred'."

"If what you are saying is true, and when you looked back at the Earl's actions now, what do you think was driving him?"

"…Ahhh." Stolas closed his eyes, understanding finally dawning. He sighed, the incredible load that had been pressing down his chest evaporating. "…Young Master." Stolas exhaled, suddenly looking a hundred years older. 'What a strange way …but what a fitting way …for you to express love.' "I am what I am." '…And I hate it," Stolas thought. No matter how hard they both tried to deny and ignore, the Earl loved him, and he had loved the boy in return.


	4. Chapter 3

*A few words of thanks: A genuine and deep thanks for everyone who has posted reviews. I am truly sorry for the first botched attempts to post this series correctly, for I have unintentionally deleted the review comments along with the incorrectly-posted versions of early chapters. Your reviews are truly wonderful, and they do fuel my efforts into finishing up the chapters as swiftly as possible. – Just as much as they drive me to add 'finesse' to each chapter. Please also accept my deepest apologies also for the grammar mistakes that have escaped my attention.

*I also must say that this is a repost, for I had not been careful to make clear how I address Sebastian / Prince Stolas in the previous version, and I felt it did not do the story justice.

**"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"**

**Written by Second Wind**

**Chapter 3: Blood Relatives & Family Matters**

The retired Death God and the soon-to-be-condemned demon prince faced each other.

Prince Stolas was brain-storming, even as he tried to maintain his calm exterior. All his plans were now in shambles. He never should have come here, at this point in time. Had there been just one extra day, he could have taken care of the whole thing quietly – at least the business involving his son's soul – and gone back to Ciel. …Well, it looked like that option was forever out of question now.

The Undertaker brewed a cup of tea for each of them, and set one of the cups in front of his subject. Stolas eyed the clear green liquid with faint interest, wondering when the Death God acquired a taste for green tea. The Undertaker's motion gave them both an opportunity to gaze into each other's eyes deeply – and attempt to figure out what were in the other's eyes. The Death God snickered inwardly, seeing that the prince's eyes turned back to their natural simmering dark pink.

"Come clean about your child and be banished by your kin. You will no doubt be left in shame and disgrace for eternity, but it is a noble way to go." The Undertaker challenged, but the demon prince shook his head.

"I really would rather die in a battle. Send me back with the news of my crimes, and they will surely dispatch a group of blood-thirsty beasts after me. " The images of Ciel, his loyal guards, and of course, his 'other' humans crossed Stolas's mind right then, and he felt his chest tighten from a feeling he could not put his finger on, but it was not enough for him to change his mind nor the words he spoke. The Undertaker snickered.

"Did you really think you can keep Death Gods – especially one such as Spears – from finding out where you were?" The Undertaker threw another piece of juicy fact in the prince's face.

"Mmmm… No. …Why are you mentioning him?" The prince was thoroughly confused.

"You did not notice that he was there, did you?" The Death God grinned, enjoying the prince's reaction.

This did not sit well with the prince at all, and he furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Where?"

"On that island, where you took the poor Earl's life and soul."

The prince was surprised. This was the last thing he had expected, because his guard would have alerted to any level of disturbance in the area had he noticed a Death God looking in on the process. Which meant only one of two things: either Spears was really adept at erasing any signs of his presence, or that his guard knew of Spears's presence, and deliberately did not report to him. He tried to search out the signs of his loyal guard whom he left outside to keep an eye on the passersby, and was alarmed – as well as enraged – to find none.

"…Even if he had announced his presence to me, it would not have mattered."

A deep-seeded anger began welling up in the prince's heart. If there was one thing he could not bear, it was betrayal. This was a very well-known fact in the Underworld, and those who planned on crossing Stolas, or alas betray him, would have to do so well-prepared for retaliation. Of course, Stolas had always played fairly, so he was going to wait until he was given a full explanation from his loyal guard before making any judgment. However, time was of the essence here, and if his most loyal guard had indeed betrayed him, and sided with …whomever he wished, then there was a good chance that he had flown back to the Underworld to report this latest turn of events.

"Yes, I know. But, Spears was there because the Earl was on that list, and I told the Earl about that fact before the boat reached London."

"What?! You TOLD Ciel that he was going to die, on that very day?" The prince was surprised, because that was a breach of protocol for the Death Gods.

"Yes, I did. I figured I owed the boy that much."

"…For the same reason Spears did not interfere in our …ritual?"

"Precisely. And, because he heard the Earl's last words, just as you did."

"…To make his death as painful as possible."

"Correct. Otherwise, even Spears would have objected to you doing …that."

"He did offer the rest of his remains to my loyal guard, and I did promise a kiss to take his soul a long time ago, while he wanted it to hurt as much as possible. …I figured that ripping open his rib cage and crashing his heart while sucking his soul out of his mouth was the only convenient way to accomplish all three tasks at once.

" …Besides, I have once explained to him of the two ways in which I take a soul. One was through a kiss on the mouth, the other was the …tearing open the rib cage and taking out the heart while it was still beating and the human was fully conscious, and consuming it along with the soul. I do admit that he was shuddering the first time he heard it."

Stolas caught himself before going too far with the explanation, and rushed to sum it up.

"I specifically told him that the second method was reserved only for those who resisted me or refused to fulfill our contract, and that he was not going to be put through that. But, that would not have been in accordance with his final wish. That was why I was so very shocked. … At least I could keep his screams muffled with my mouth. …And he did not fight me during the entire process, or complained about it after I brought him back. ...And, yes, I had my guard pick the rest of his remains. He did a very good job of cleaning it up. "

Stolas closed his eyes, for he did not want to look at the Undertaker just then, and because the memory of the first and the only kiss came unbidden. He had never before been affected so much by a single kiss. What amazed him more than anything else was the fact that there was nothing sexual about it. It was not with any sexual arousal that they consented to deepening the kiss, nor tasted each other's mouths. It was more out of …what he could only describe it as 'sorrow' – wanting to continue with their relationship, in their respective roles as the Earl of Phantomhive and his faithful butler – at the same time knowing in their hearts that it all had to end. …And so, he did end it.

"…Spears also reported to me that you did not seem to enjoy it as much as you should have."

The Undertaker's voice once again pulled the prince out of his memory.

"…That must be his imagination." The prince nearly missed the smirk that showed itself over the Death God's face. With one eyebrow raised, the Death God continued his questioning.

"Does William T. Spears look like someone who has even the barest sense of imagination?"

"…" The prince refrained from commenting, but the prince's half-hooded eyes were more than enough answer.

While his new lord, Prince Stolas was held up in Undertaker's shop, Ciel Phantomhive was pacing in his 'bubble' in his lord's palace, his impatient nature refusing his legs to stop moving.

"Sebastian?" Ciel called out to his lord, but no reply came his way. If he tried hard, he could usually get some kind of a response from the demon prince. …Of course, often times all he got were annoyed 'Not now!' but it was far better than nothing.

Although Ciel knew that the world of the living was a faraway place from here, he knew very well that his Sebastian would not have been gone so long just to accomplish this mission without at least being in touch.

There was another reason for Ciel to worry.

It had to do with a certain piece of document he had seen the prince write in. This incident occurred while Ciel was still recuperating and the prince had to come often to watch over him. Ciel had already been well enough to talk and think coherently, and had watched with interest as prince Stolas did his paperwork which he would bring with him from time to time beside Ciel's bed.

Ciel let his eyes close, and let his mind play out the scene.

Ciel stared at the parchment on which his lord was scribbling. The ancient-looking thing was in a seemingly unnecessarily large size, and the size of the letters written on the parchment was equally large, making this whole document quite well-balanced.

"What are these letters saying? What is this for?"

Ciel asked, for the tenth time that day, the unanswerable question. Stolas sighed.

"My dear Ciel…" The prince began, ignoring the startled look on his former master's face. "I will explain it all to you, when I am ready."

"Why do you need time to think?" Ciel was immediately suspicious, and tried not to show it.

"Because …it is complicated." The prince replied, his eyes still not meeting Ciel's own searching gaze. Ciel tried to ply.

"And unpleasant?"

"Most definitely." The prince nodded, while he still kept his eyes averted.

"And it …involves me." Ciel tried throwing in his own theories as baits. The prince nodded.

"…Yes, it does."

"Does someone want me gone completely?"

"Yes. Just as much as they want 'me' gone." Stolas answered dryly. 'Line, hook, and sinker.' Ciel thought bitterly.

"So, what is the first line saying?"

"Ciel…" The prince's voice dropped an octave, a silent warning issued through his eyes.

"Just the first line. Please?"

"…It says, 'Statement No. 1'." The prince replied matter-of-factly, his annoyance showing in the deliberately-businesslike tone of his voice. Ciel was not giving up that easily. He edged closer to the prince, their heads nearly touching. To his relief, the prince did not shoo him away. Ciel gave it several seconds before pressing on.

"And next to that…?"

"…Okay, okay." The prince rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. "It says, 'This is to certify that I, Prince Stolas, fully understand and agree with the laws of the Underworld Society, which govern …' and goes on to the 2nd line."

"So, it is a legal document." Ciel could not help asking, his interest now piqued.

"A legal statement." The prince clarified. Ciel's eyebrows furrowed.

"In preparation of …what?"

"I am not certain. …We have two choices." The prince waved two fingers in front of the boy.

"Which are…?" Ciel's eyes narrowed in concentration.

"This paper will need to be signed and sealed by the participants of a trial whenever a witness is required for coronation." The prince said, pointing at the paper.

"So, you are…" Ciel silently nudged his lord to get to the point.

"It is very much likely that I am being investigated, or at the very least evaluated, by the committee which ultimately decides on, and honors, the next one to take the throne."

"How does that involve 'me'?" Now, Ciel was even more confused. The whole subject matter seemed something that was far more significant than anything that would warrant his involvement.

"Because, I brought you back here. You are someone who will always be with me. You are also the reason for why I am getting this nomination."

"Then it is good for us. No?"

"We will be in much more danger than before. If there is anyone who wants to come at me, planning an assassination, now is the perfect time to move their plans into action."

"…Oh."

"I will also need to 'present' you to the elders."

"Okay. …Present me how?" Now, this did make Ciel nervous. He did not wish to cause his new lord any trouble, and the very idea of meeting the elders – who could snuff out not only his but his prince's soul in a flash – was terrifying.

The prince pointed to somewhere in the middle of the document, on which he had finished writing.

"This line describes the reasons and purposes for which I brought you back with me."

"…Oh, …and that is unpleasant for me, because…?"

"You will see me, as someone who I should have been, but that someone is drastically different from the one who is sitting in front of you right now."

"…So, …umm…"

"You will certainly not like anything I will be saying about you."

"You need to 'act your part'. Is that not what you are saying?"

"Exactly."

"…Demons take human souls for …oh, right." Ciel remembered, and for a moment was not sure if he should have been blushing from embarrassment, or shuddering in fear. He hated himself for settling on the former.

"Yes, to inflict intentional suffering. Through torture, mostly. But, seeing that you are 'intact', I will need to claim another good reason. Which leaves me very little choice but to claim you as …a source of 'private' entertainment." The prince smirked indulgently, seeing Ciel's blush deepen.

"Ohhh …well, I …think I know where you are going with this."

"Only because it was the most plausible reason and because…" The prince left out the rest of the sentence for the boy to finish. He thoroughly enjoyed the boy's discomfort, for the boy's cheeks now looked a few levels short of scarlet.

"…I already did offer myself to you once, and with intimacy as my intension."

"Yes. That made this reason closest to the truth. They will not see this as a lie."

"Okay."

"I might have to act as though I am telling them the truth." The prince's eyebrow did a little jump, the smirk adoring the rest of his face deepening a notch. Ciel squirmed and looked away before forming a coherent response.

"Are you saying that …that, they will actually be watching us having, uhhh…" Ciel's face flamed at the thought. The prince looked amused more than anything as he shook his head.

"Not to that extent, but they may actually send spies to see the truth behind my statement."

"…Fine. If you need to act the part, then I will need to act mine, as well."

"Once you are ready for the outside world - which means out of this room - then, I will most likely take you into my own private bedroom to spend time in there. Not always, but often."

"...Fine." Ciel dropped his gaze further, imagining what his 'private' bedroom might actually look like.

"You will most likely be referred to as my pet." The prince tested the waters.

"…Fine." Ciel repeated, having expected it as much.

"Are you sure?" The prince pressed, for he need the boy to be absolutely certain what he was being ordered to do.

"I have brought this onto myself, Sebastian. I am yours to command, and …to do with what you will." Ciel replied, resigned to his fate more than anything. If the prince wanted to have Ciel stripped naked, tied to a leash with a collar, and parade him around while the entire Hell laughed at him, then Ciel was going to let it be.

"…" The prince remained silent, though his eyes showed his appreciation, for he had sensed Ciel's thoughts.

"Sign the damn thing, then. But, for better effect, why don't you use my blood to sign it?" Ciel offered his index finger. Stolas looked astonished for a long moment, then smiled an affectionate smile Ciel was used to seeing on Sebastian – although such occasions were extremely rare.

"I was actually just about to ask you for it. Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Ciel replied, offering his index finger again. Stolas took the offered finger and brought it to his mouth, then punctured its soft flesh with one of his fangs. Ciel drew a quick breath, but was quiet as the blood was caught in a saucer the prince somehow brought out of thin air.

"This way, they will be able to sense that my saliva, along with your blood, is mixed in the signed statement." Stolas said as he dipped the quill into the harvested blood, and carefully signed at the bottom of the parchment. He then kissed on Ciel's finger and the wound vanished. He waited for the ink to dry, and then wax-sealed the document with silver-colored wax seal, with the family crest of his own house. Then, he placed it in a hard case that looked suspiciously like a horn of a huge beast, closed the lid, and then handed it to a waiting raven who took it and waited his master's orders.

"Please take this document to the one who sent it to me. Be careful on your way, and stay higher while flying. The dragons might be watching you, but I trust that you know where they are hiding. If you get stranded in any way please send me a signal. I will come and get you myself, if I have to. Is that understood?"

Ciel was suddenly very apprehensive. He knew that tone of voice when Sebastian had used it. The raven curtsied him, and took flight. The prince watched it go, his eyes holding that tense, simmering pink that had more red in them than they normally did.

"Sebastian?" Ciel asked, knowing he was risking chance to get his 'lord' angry. The prince, however, only sighed.

"Yes, Ciel?" The prince replied without facing Ciel like he usually did.

"You are worried, and not just ' a little'. What is the thought that is troubling you?"

"…" The prince looked away and refused to answer.

"If I may, you yourself do not know for which purpose that signed statement was required for, do you? Which means that you have some grounds for worry. May I inquire as to what they are?"

Ciel plied as gently as possible, but without hiding any of his worry or the nervousness. The prince shifted in his seat, but again sighed and beckoned him over. Ciel let him pick him up and lift him in his lap. The prince could whisper to him this way, and ensure their privacy. As predicted, the prince lowered his voice down quite a bit lower than its normal tone.

"Yes, there is one …suspicion that I have, and another …idea that is worrying me. However, they both involve us both, and are still …too terrifying to contemplate. Give me some time to review the situation, Ciel." With that, Stolas gave Ciel's forehead a kiss and tucked him into bed – a habit he had not yet felt a need to eliminate completely.

The sight of something – or someone – dropping onto the floor of his room with a 'thud' broke Ciel out of his reverie. The fact that the 'thud' sounded like something wet falling, and the fact that this 'bubble' should have been completely impenetrable due to the barrier the prince used to protect its walls – both entered Ciel's mind simultaneously.

Turning around to look for the source of the sound, Ciel gasped and froze on spot.

On the dark marble floor of his room, lay a pair of ravens bound together back–to-back. One had its head missing – quite obviously severed from the neck up, considering the blood that was oozing out of the cleanly cut wound.

The other was still alive – though missing both wings and badly bleeding. The bird patiently waited as Ciel freed it with shaking fingers. Watching the bird struggle, Ciel determined that not only did the bird lose the wings, but it had a broken leg.

Thoroughly frightened, and half out of his mind with escalating worry for his new lord, Ciel screamed at the top of this lungs. "SEBASTIAN!!"

Back in London, at the Undertaker's shop, the interrogation – or an evaluation – of Stolas was still going.

"You took what you absolutely needed, then saved the rest. No seriously-starved demon would do that."

"Can we please change the subject? You were talking about my son, and I seriously need to get to him."

"Did you believe that he does not have long to live, and that we would come for his soul?"

"Yes. I will be honest with you."

"Did you ever think that you could 'escape' from us?"

"I cannot say that the thought never crossed my mind, but I did not think I would have a good chance."

"I heard it clear in my head when you came in. You were remembering the conversation you had with the Earl."

"You can hear me think?!"

"Only because you were thinking really hard about it."

"…You can really do that? Take him in, I mean."

"I'm the best – no, the only chance you have."

"I hear a big 'but' coming."

"…But, I cannot save the mother from her fiery death, if she is to go to heaven, as you said."

"Fiery death? …So, they decided to 'burn' her?" 'What is this, a witch-hunt?' Stolas felt his anger well up from inside him like lava.

"Do you want her to be tortured to death, instead?"

"NO." Stolas was surprised at his own response. He had no idea why, but the very thought of someone torturing Matilda Simmons was too disgusting.

"You know just as well as anyone, that a death by fire actually cleanses the soul of the condemned. The body will turned into a pile of ashes, and will be returned to the earth. Although, she will be buried as a criminal."

"Are you saying that, if all goes accordingly, and she endures her fate of being burned to death, then what little sins she has committed in her short life thus far will be cleansed?"

"That is the only chance she has."

The prince contemplated, and nodded in agreement. He no longer cared what she may think of him, and what she had been telling their son while the boy was still in her womb. All that mattered was that she had a chance to be delivered to Heaven. 'Curse me all you like, Ms. Simmons. Hate me, and condemn me all you like in your mind, for I deserve your hatred. '

"It's all right. Heaven's really where she belongs. She was just a confused young lady. Her heart was pure when I… Well, when I made it impure. I mean…"

"So, what are you waiting for?" The Undertaker said, going into the backroom seemingly in search of something.

"What do you mean?"

"Just like you said, the baby won't survive much longer."

"…That's right. But…"

"No 'buts' this time, prince. Come and stand here beside me." The Undertaker said as he stood in the center of the room. Stolas stood, now seeing for the first time that there was a faint, glowing circle around the Death God. He hesitated."

"I… Can a demon enter the Death God's circle?" Stolas asked, afraid of what might happen to him if something did indeed go wrong. Reading his mind again, the Death God smirked.

"'You' can."

"Oh…" Stolas replied, realization dawning upon him. He shrugged. "Well, in that case…" The prince said, walking up to stand beside the Death God, who grinned widely.

"I hope you are not 'too uncomfortable' with this arrangement." The Undertaker said as he put his arms easily around Stolas's slender form, and held him tightly. Stolas gasped and froze in place, but did not put up a fight. Their height difference made Stolas turn his head aside in order to breathe. The world began to move, eventually whirling around them, until everything resolved into a pitch darkness that, in a split second, was transformed into a rural farmland in daylight.

A bell was tolling in the distance, and Stolas spotted the customary crucifix atop a building situated a short distance away.

"That must be the place." The Undertaker said, and Stolas made to go. The Undertaker stopped him with a hand placed on the younger man's shoulder.

"We are putting an utmost priority on your son. But, that does not mean you can escape from 'the other' duty." The Undertaker said, watching Stolas grow pale before his eyes. "Sorry, Kiddo." The older man said as he set out for the church.

They heard the baby wailing from inside the church as they made their way inside. Stolas stopped.

"Can I, a demon, enter this particular church?" He asked, knowing that not every single one was 'legitimate' or 'sacred', and thus allowed him entrance just like the church where he and Matilda met.

The Undertaker took a step inside, breathed once, and decided the magic in the air was too strong for the demon prince.

"Go 'round to the back, prince. Wait for my signal there."

Stolas did as he was told, because he had no reason not to.

Demons did have a keen sense of smell, and here he could smell a lot of things that made the little hairs at the back of his neck stand at attention. 'Danger' was the strongest scent there, among the other scents, 'fear' of all shapes and proportions, as well as a hefty amount of 'shame', 'jealousy', and 'lust'. …All the things that Stolas, as a demon, normally would be attracted to.

Stolas knew that the old fortuneteller had aided in placing enchantments and other demon-deterring measures to keep him away from the premises, and he had a strong feeling that the old woman had called for reinforcements to further protect this place.

After a short while – about fifteen minutes in length, he saw the Undertaker making his way toward him.

"Prince Stolas, I want you to stay with me, by my side. You may be able to move about more freely."

"Oh…"

"There is another thing. These are simple folks, with superstitious ideas and philosophies."

"Okay. I gathered as much."

"Old folks and country folks like 'spectacles'."

"Ah. I think I know." Stolas nodded, remembering Houndsworth.

"…Do you have wings?"

"Wings?"

"Yes. You know, like the birds."

"I can change myself to a raven, to really fly, but I …never tried having them 'out' while I have a human body or taking a human form, because someone clipped them off me while I was very young. I think it was a form of punishment for something I did. I do have a little bit left of them, but I find them destructing, especially during work and during battles. …Maybe it was for getting myself trapped in that brass pot, although that does not make much sense. I do not remember why, exactly. I just know that it was for a bad reason – as in not from sickness or such respectable reason."

Stolas looked pained. The Undertaker contemplated for a moment, decided not to push him too much at this point, and gently patted him on the shoulder.

Just then, he felt something 'slam' into his mind with a ferocity the prince rarely experienced. The voice was muffled, but the owner of the voice was unmistakable. 'Ciel!' Stolas looked around, but of course the boy was nowhere to be seen. He squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on the voice, and what the boy was screaming about. When it came the second time, he still could not make out the words or the boy's thoughts. However, he did get a glimpse – of what looked to be a bleeding bird.

Now deeply alarmed, Stolas tried his best to communicate with Ciel, but the link that existed in between them was gone – just as suddenly as it came.

With much difficulty, Stolas forced himself to focus on the matters at hand, deciding to get back to Ciel as quickly as possible and worry about the rest later. Right now, the Death God and his son required more attention than anything else.

The Death God – a.k.a. Undertaker – watched as Stolas gingerly tried poking at the border line of the church's interior with the tip of his shoe. The shoe emitted a sizzling sound, and the immediately withdrew his foot. Undertaker sighed and abruptly began taking his Frankenstein-style boots off.

"What are you…?" Stolas started asking, then shut his mouth as Undertaker rolled his eyes, as if to say, 'What does it look like I am doing, idiot?' So, he wordlessly began taking off his own butler shoes, and put on the boots the Undertaker handed to him.

"These are protected with enchantments, and by the materials of the boots themselves." The Undertaker said as he watched the 'butler' buckle up the boots. The leather of the boots were soft, and very well worn. The buckles felt very cold to the touch, but unlike regular metal, they felt very 'flexible', for the lack of a better expression.

"What are these made of?" Stolas asked as he tested the fit of the boots by walking around a bit. They instantly felt snug, as if they were made just for him.

"Unicorn skin. Laces were made of Pegasus's mane, and the metal buckles were made of the same enchanted metal as the holy cupid's arrows."

"Then, these must have been a gift from the angels, or fairies, at least."

"Yes, indeed they were." The Undertaker commented almost casually, but the meaning of this statement was not lost on Stolas, as he froze on the spot.

"So, why am I wearing these without having my feet bitten off, or at least burned?"

"All in good time, prince." The Undertaker waved the confused demon prince on, indicating that they really should get going.

"…" Stolas waited, still not sure if he should be wearing these boots, let alone stepping into the holy territory of a church ground.

"I give you my word." The Undertaker threw his hand up in exasperation.

"All right, sir." Stolas finally yielded, filing away the Death God's promise for later and turned to face the church's interior once again.

"Try again." The Undertaker coaxed the demon prince, who squared his shoulders and stepped one foot inside the premises.

Nothing happened.

Stolas swallowed hard, and took another step forward.

Again, nothing happened.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Stolas took several more steps, with the same result.

"It looks like the enchanted ground's been fooled. Let's go." The Undertaker said as he followed after the demon prince bare-footed.

Stolas tried to hurry inside alone, but was quickly pulled to a stop at the doorway to the priest's changing room.

"What is it?" The prince asked, now impatient.

"You will need me to take your arm from here. Otherwise, you will end up reduced to a pile of ashes on the floor."

"Oh."

"Either take my arm, or let me take yours."

"..Okay. Take mine, then. I am used to leading."

"Fair enough." The Undertaker grinned, and they walked arm-in-arm inside the changing room. It was very sparsely furnished, and decorated only by a large crucifix mounted on the wall opposite the door leading to the main part of the church.

"The bride's and the groom's rooms were just beyond the door leading to the main part of the church where the worshippers gathered together for the mass and other holy ceremonies. Both of these rooms come equipped with respective doors facing the corridors surrounding the walls of the priest's changing room." The Undertaker explained the church's structure to the demon prince as they walked around quietly and unseen. "The confession rooms were just beyond the closed curtain partitioning the cubicles from the rows of benches lined up in the main hall." The Undertaker went on, now annoying the prince who wanted to get everything done as quickly as possible.

"Do I really need to know about all of this?"

"Well, once you are in a dire need of a quick escape route, you will need to keep in mind where everything is." The Undertaker stated matter-of-factly. Stolas narrowed his eyes.

"Can we not lea…?"

"Not if we are separated." The Undertaker finished the prince's sentence for him.

"Oh." Stolas craned his neck to see the inside of the noisy main hall.

"Not even these boots will protect you, once we get separated inside that main hall. Especially not with the spectators."

"Noted." The prince nodded, and tightened his arm around the Undertaker's arm.

From inside the main hall, the crowd cheered louder at whatever the priest was saying, followed by a loud gurgling sound emanating from the baby they were trying to save.

"Ah-oh. That does not sound very good." The Undertaker commented. Stolas growled deep in his throat, and dragged the Undertaker toward the doorway leading into the main hall, and peered inside.

Stolas saw a huge crowd gathering around the altar and the white-and-gold-clad priest who held a cup of …no, a grail of …something, possibly red wine, high above his head, and over the tiny figure with tiny legs kicking into the air. The demon prince's eyes widened, his heart racing rapidly, and his blood calling for his entire body to 'go' and 'dare to move' toward the child. The Undertaker sensed this, and pulled on the prince to get his mind back to reality. They first needed a plan for action.

Both the prince and his child stood little chance of coming out of this alive, if they do not plan their moves well, and especially not if the prince doesn't stay sane.

The Undertaker stuck his head out of the curtains to peer inside the main hall, and cursed after realizing that they had no clear passage leading to the altar. They could not get to it without stepping on at least fifteen audience members. He couldn't leave the prince's side to simply walk inside and snatch the child. No, he would have to step inside with Stolas. Beside him, he could feel the demon prince getting out of his 'Sebastian Michaelis' persona and tagged on his arm to bring him back to reality once again. However, this time it did no good, and the prince's eyes glowed deep pink.

The priest finished giving a prayer of some sort, then placed a cross over the torso of the newborn, and began to slowly tilt the grail downward, seemingly in preparation of dousing the unhappy infant with its contents. Just as the grail was about to spill the first drop of whatever was inside, several things happened all at once.

Stolas dragged the Undertaker harshly and ran toward the altar.

The priest froze right on the spot, startled.

The crowd erupted, seeing a crazed 'butler' and the Undertaker clad in a dark monk-like outfit.

The grail slipped out of the priest's hand, slowly flying out of the way of the infant, and toward the spectators in a slow arc.

"NOOO!" The Undertaker and the prince screamed simultaneously, but for different reasons.

In the next moment, Stolas freed his arms from the Undertaker's grasp, no longer caring what fate awaited him. The prince leaped forward, then over to the altar, landing over the screaming, flailing figure of the infant.

With the glowing, deep pink eyes with the slit-shaped pupils, Stolas barely landed before he picked up the child from the altar, kicked the priest hard in the face by using the momentum, then literally threw the infant over to the Undertaker for the startled Death God to catch.

In the next moment, Stolas's entire body erupted in blue flames, and an unearthly scream was torn out of him. The Undertaker swore under his breath as he wrapped his hand with an edge of his long cloak, and grabbed the burning demon. He ran as quickly as he could from the way they came, dragging Stolas with him. Contrary to his prior beliefs, though, the flame was freezing cold.

Stolas was still screaming even after they were outside the church's premises, trying to put out the fire by flailing his limbs. Undertaker decided they had better return to his shop immediately, and leaped - with the screaming demon prince and his equally-screaming infant son – right back into his shop.

Once back on safe grounds, the Undertaker literally threw Stolas into a tub of water – not holy water, but the regular tap water he usually kept filled-up in order to wash the bodies of the deceased. To his lasting amazement, though, the water began to steam – but not with heat. The water began to freeze with a hiss as he watched. Then, he thought of the infant they had rescued, instantly aware that this boy could not stay here – as in England - and that he needed 'care' quickly. He knew that the prince meant to take this infant's life and soul, then bring him back to his own kingdom for the late Earl to care. However, that was not an option now.

The Undertaker thought hard, and could only think of one place for the baby to go: to 'the other' prince, and the Hindu priest's son. Maybe not immediately, but eventually.

The Undertaker gave the infant a stuffed toy he had found in one of the abandoned caskets, and set him down in a chair next to the now-freezing tub of water, then drained the tub quickly. He was alarmed to see chunks of the prince's hair along with the water.

The Undertaker also put a kettle on the stove to heat up some fresh water, and to do so quickly – while muttering an apology to the now-unconscious-but-shivering Stolas – as he cut the damaged clothes off of the prince's body. The Undertaker was extremely relieved to see that the special boots had escaped damages of any kind, and carefully took them off of the prince's feet.

Normally, the flame which the prince had been subjected to, would have been hot to the touch, and turned him into ashes. However, this was not the case, which meant that either Stolas had some unknown special powers, or the prince was not a demon. The Undertaker grinned, knowing the answer already, but also what it meant to all the coexiting three worlds. The Undertaker quickly poured the heated water into an empty beaker and poured the entire content down the prince's throat to warm his body from the inside. The prince coughed and spattered, but came around enough to open his tired eyes.

When Undertaker tilted the prince's head to let him drink more, he did not protest. Once the water was drained, he threw a heavy blanket to the man to curl up in, and began readying the tub for an actual, hot bath. The prince managed to climb out of the tub and stayed on the floor next to his son's chair, looking more like a shipwreck survivor / burn victim in a dead of winter than a demon prince.

"Prince Stolas, he is safe, but you cannot touch him just yet. Your body is too cold, and you …just got …'frozen' by the magic flames. You are posing a danger to the boy."

The prince backed off a step from the chair his son was moving his limbs on – kicking and grabbing at the air with his tiny hands and feet – and watched with rapt attention at the infant. The very brief glimpse he had had of the baby boy told him: he had a pair of glowing pink eyes, just as he had suspected; his legs were longer than those of a normal human baby; his hair looked pitch-black; and his nose was tiny but pointed – like his mother. His lips were also full and curvy – like his mother. And, a full set of tiny but sharp white fangs he had inherited from his father.

Now, the prince was being rewarded with a closer view of the infant – albeit a limited one – and his curiosity kept him there. He had, of course, cared for human children before, and did fairly okay, his movements had been rather methodical and far too devoid of the 'wooing' and 'cooing' that most humans are prone to do. 'Loveless' was the label they stuck on his child caring skills. But, he had never had his own before. If he had, then they never bothered to show up or announce their existence.

As the prince watched his newborn son, the Undertaker kept warming up the water for a bath, and simultaneously kept his eyes on the prince, who made no move to disturb the baby. He tapped the prince on the top of his head, startling him out of his reverie, and helped him back into the tub.

The prince's eyes never strayed from the baby boy, and he never said a word as the Undertaker began pouring freeze-burn medication right into the hot water to begin bathing the wounded prince. As predicted, the prince's skin had been damaged severely by the blue flames but now that some time had passed, the prince only looked half-dead. The scorched skin was peeling away and off of his body in the bath water, but even though this is a very painful procedure even for a demon, the prince seemed oblivious, except for his gritted fangs and the white-knuckled grip he had on the edge of the tub.

Even when the Undertaker warned the prince that he needed to do his lower half, the price did not take the soft sponge away from his hand. Instead, he merely got up on his knees inside the tub, and leaned his upper body out of the edge of the tub, so that the Undertaker – now bewildered – could treat and wash the prince's lower half as well. Thinking of what Grell might do to him if the red-crazed death god ever found out that he was actually washing the 'Sebas-chan's' naked back and rear and both legs – he also surveyed the damages done on the rest of the prince's body. The now-peeled, born-again top half of the prince's body was almost completely healed, while the prince's hair grew themselves back before his eyes.

The undertaker again warned the prince that he was going to rinse out his hair, and saw him lean his head back in answer. As the Undertaker gently poured a bucket of water over the prince's head, he was glad to see that the black strands actually stayed on the injured prince's head. Satisfied, the Undertaker pulled the plug on the tub.

"All done, Prince Stolas. I suggest that you do not put anything over your skin until the new layers cover your burns." The older man said as he went about cleaning the very dirty tub. Stolas nodded and climbed out of the tub, and again squatted beside the chair to watch the baby. Knowing this demon prince for a long time, it was almost eely to see him so focused, and lost to all else because of this one, little creature. – 'One incredible, special creature' - the older man added mentally.

It took less than half an hour for the prince to recover enough to wear clothes, although the ones he had on were shredded beyond repair by the Undertaker's scissors. It was just fine, however, since all the prince needed to do was to leap himself back to London's Phantomhive townhouse, where Soma still lived with Agni - for eternity, if they so desired - since the estate was given to the two Indians in Ciel's will, though it was doubtful that those two had been informed of this fact. Once there, Stolas quickly got changed into the fresh butler uniform, then came back to the Undertaker's shop before anyone saw him. This was because 'Sebastian Michaelis' always kept two sets of his butler uniform in the townhouse.

"Honestly, 'Sebastian', don't you wear anything other than the butler suit?" The Undertaker shook his head.

"What? Do you want me in my skin-tight leather outfit with the pin heels? Not in front of my son."

"You could try to surprise him with your crown."

"No. That thing is riddled with protective spells. If he touches it by mistake, he will certainly die. If he wants to see me wearing that crown, he will have to be content with a portrait of mine, but I will need a fresh one drawn for me. I have a huge one drawn on a canvas, depicting me as the crowned prince of my land, but that thing is way too big, and it is in the Hall of the Lords, at Lucifer's den."

Suddenly, the prince bolted upright in alarm.

"What is it, prince?" The Undertaker asked, also in alarm at the prince's drastic change of expression. The prince seemed to be deep in thought, before turning back and replying.

"I need you to clarify something for me, really quickly."

"What is it?"

"Is there something – anything – that is 'blocking' the telepathic signals in this room?"

This was another unexpected question, and one that the Undertaker had to answer very carefully.

"Well, this shop is a disguised portal of sorts, and sure, we have security measures taken to protect it, so there maybe some difficulties for telepathic signals to be exchanged. But, why do you ask?"

"I had something unsettling happen to me, both here and back at the church grounds."

"When you were grabbing your head?" The Undertaker asked, remembering the moment when the prince looked stunned for a second and seemed to either grab his head or cover his ear with his hand.

"Oh, you noticed." The prince's eyebrows jumped a little, and the Undertaker tried not to feel offended. So, the Undertaker spilled another bean to the demon prince.

"I also noticed that your servant seems to have gone missing. I thought that you sent him back to your world."

"That is where you are wrong. I ordered him specifically to watch the traffic for me."

"I have things worked out among my kind, and only myself and William T. Spears are allowed access to this immediate area right now." The Undertaker actually was never meant to reveal this particular information. However, looking into the prince's once again demonic glowing eyes, the Undertaker felt that something unsettling was indeed going on. Not just in the Underworld, but in this world of humans and other mortal creatures. Stolas closed his eyes tightly as he recalled the scene as best he could.

"It was unmistakably Ciel's voice, and he was screaming, although I detected no injury or immediate danger out of the situation. But… I think I saw …a bleeding bird."

"Could that be one of your guards?"

"It could be, but I don't know why the bird showed up in the image with Ciel."

The prince now began pacing around the shop, his footsteps circling the chair his son was still resting on. The prince rested his hand at his chin while supporting the bent elbow with the other in a classic 'thinker's position'.

"Can you not call up another guard?" The Undertaker tried to deter the prince from the direction this conversation was going.

"No. Even if I could, I still need to get outside. I was outside when I first received the signal. The fact that I cannot now, tells me that I need to be outside. Come with me."

With that, the prince walked briskly toward the door. The Undertaker sighed and grabbed the prince's arm before the demon reached the door.

"You cannot just 'go out'. There are reasons for which we are protecting this place, and protecting you. Remember that you are in our protective custody, and in the middle of a legal procedure. You are on the death list, and that means you and your servants may share the same danger you are in."

The Undertaker could not yield this one. Stolas shook his head and sighed, his eyes now pleading.

"What is most alarming is the fact that the bird was there, in Ciel's room."

"Why is that so surprising?"

"Because even my most trusted guards should not have been able to enter that particular room without my expressed permission to do so."

"Are you saying that someone actually opened the room to the bird?"

"If Ciel somehow had done so – although I very much doubt it – and the bird actually asked to be let into the room… No, that really isn't plausible. Someone must have thrown it into the room."

"For anyone to realize that you are gone, and to actually sought out your guards, and catch them to either hurt or kill them, how high up will they need to be?"

"It would have to be someone very close to me. Someone who …could have come in and out of the palace freely, or fairly freely, and could overpower them. …Someone …within my clan. …Maybe they came in search of me in my palace to …assassinate me."

"To get you out of the way."

"Yes. I knew someone would come for me eventually, but …the announcement was not yet official. I have written a statement that consented to any necessary investigation prior to my coming here."

"Narrow down the suspects for me. I cannot help you, otherwise."

"Well, there is ...my mother and her …other siblings, although I have not met them because we don't get along. …But, they are so far down in ranks, that they have no authority to enter my palace without being invited. …My own mother wouldn't have done this, because she …well, she does have a lot to gain from doing this, but my own mother… No, not even she would do something that drastic. Lucifer won't allow that. …Maybe she found someone to mate with, and decided to build her own clan, separate from my father's. …Since my father's exile, our clan's name has been tarnished quite a bit. Maybe she wanted me gone to forget about my father: Asmodeus."

"And take your throne instead?" The Undertaker raised his eyebrows.

"Or to completely obliterate my family name. I am the only one remaining who is a direct descendant of Great Lord Asmodeus."

The Undertake watched in alarm, but also with respect, for the man who was now in front of him, was unmistakably a crowned prince of a once-extremely-powerful demon clan. The authority with which he spoke, and the simmering pink eyes showed a glimpse of the demon's millenniums' worth of wisdom and hardship.

*To be continued!

**Please be noted that this is a revised (and improved) version. I have reposted this along with the 6th chapter.


	5. Chapter 4

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 4: Cloak and Dagger

The Undertaker's Shop

An Unnamed Street

London, England

10 AM – Same Day

The Undertaker watched the tiny demon infant 'express himself' as he wriggled within the basket he was currently placed in. He had been holding him earlier, but all that the starved baby would do now was either express his desire to be fed through the incessant gargling or vicious attempts at biting, and that made it impossible for the much older man to care for him.

Prince Stolas was currently in the center of the main shop floor, surrounded by a mountain of various reference materials and papers he had retrieved through courtesy of the Undertaker and William T. Spears, busily scribbling as he tried to organize his thoughts and created confidential documents – letters, as he referred to them – he had written to his followers and supporters to be delivered. Although, under his current circumstances, the huge blinking question of 'by whom' has so far gone unanswered.

"I cannot let my own territory – all 26 legions of them - be reduced to shambles even after I am gone, just because someone is trying hard to ruin it. My subordinates need instructions, and I need their explanations, and I need to make arrangements for my son, because he's starving."

"Is it not wiser for you, if you kept your actions to a minimum until your situation can be analyzed?" The Undertaker offered.

"I know. But, now that you are telling me I cannot go out, and now that I seem to have lost my most trusted guard, and it looks suspiciously like my own family is out to obliterate me, and I seem to have – although unknowingly – committed the worst crime a demon can commit and am destined to be executed by Great Lord Lucifer after this ordeal is over, my options are rather limited. I would rather take the chance to look foolish than be a fool." Stolas spoke while waving his hand in the air as if driving each point into the mind of his 'warden'. The death god had never seen this man look so flustered, and felt a tiny pang of guilt.

"My sympathies." The Undertaker commented dryly, and was stunned to receive a vicious glare from the demon prince. As if to signal his growing irritation, his baritone voice grew louder with each point.

"It is not me who you should be sympathizing for. Direct whatever the amount of 'sympathy' you have toward Ciel, my son, my other humans, and my other loyal servants …if there is indeed any left …then, actually do something about them. Otherwise, your sympathy is worthless."

The Undertaker wisely held his tongue.

Prince Stolas worked for several more minutes in silence, before beginning to look around restlessly, and the Undertaker noticed.

"What is it you are looking for now, prince?"

"Is there any way of …? Do you have any way of telling me when it is safe for me to ...touch him? Or, at the very least feed him?" The prince asked honestly.

"By trial and error." The Undertaker answered drily, earning himself a glare from the new father.

"That is NOT funny."

"Oh, but I am serious." The Undertaker let the prince look into his eyes then, and the look Stolas found directed at him had effectively shut the prince up. "Are you willing to take a test?" The Undertaker challenged. The prince narrowed his eyes, refusing to be teased.

"That depends on how you are going to do just so."

"By using a liquid solution." The Undertaker raised his index finger.

"Are YOU willing to test it yourself?" The prince challenged, the look on his face quickly turning into that of dismay when he saw Undertaker shake his head 'no'.

"No, that thing is poison to me."

"Then, how will you know that it wouldn't poison ME?"

"Try just one drop, but after you drink all of -" The Undertaker then went into the 'kitchen' situated in the next room in search of something, and came back after rattling around for a few minutes. He held in his had a transparent glass flask full of what looked to be green juice, then finished his sentence. "- this."

"This is a detoxing solution, much like the one I used on you when I brought us all back here. …You know, the one I had mixed with the bathwater and the freeze-burn medication. It is lemon grass, rosemary, a bit of sage and even bay leaves, mixed with distilled water, and whipped up with lots of healing spells. Drink up." The Undertaker giggled – the first one prince Stolas heard since the prince returned from Hell.

The prince gave the other man a look of suspicion before he took the offered glass flask, and literally gone 'bottom's-up'. He grimaced as the liquid traveled down his throat. He felt the liquid be quickly dispersed throughout his body, and felt a tingling sensation before it changed into a 'euphoric' - for the lack of a better expression – feeling. His eyes widened in shock, and he blinked his eyes several times to clear his head.

"I feel like I'm floating." Stolas commented, his focus darting everywhere within the shop.

"Wait until it goes away." The Undertaker commented dryly, secretly enjoying the sight.

"Okay." The stunned prince replied – his voice now sounding rather unstable.

"It will take a while." The Undertaker commented, watching the prince very closely.

"It IS taking awhile." The prince answered, seemingly annoyed at this brief loss of composure.

"Patience, young man."

"I think we are about the same age. You might even be younger, so SHUT UP." The Prince complained, sounding more like a drunken sailor than anything else. The Undertaker sighed, and decided to humor the prince until he was back to his normal self.

"I am sorry, prince. I am twice as old as you are."

"….."

"I used to dine with the Romans when they first began to appear on the map."

"Oh."

"I was actually planning my retirement when you first 'got' here, and made us all incredibly busy."

"My sympathies." The prince retorted – a revenge for the death god's earlier remark.

"Needless to say, 'that' set my retirement plan back …well, by about a few decades. Then, you disappeared for a few centuries, until you turned back here again."

"…I think I am feeling …normal again." The prince said as he handed the empty flask back, and at the same time, avoided responding to the Undertaker's last statement.

"Okay. Use one of your fangs to prick one of your fingers, then first take the blood in a spoon or something and let the boy lick. If the blood doesn't burn the boy, and the boy actually desires more, then you can feed him more."

"Okay." The prince nodded, and gingerly walked up to the newborn. "Can I touch him?"

"If only the boy's body does not reject yours. If he pushes back, or starts wailing like there's no tomorrow, then just do the feeding test, and if it goes well, you can feed him through a bottle …may be one of my flasks, with an attached rubber cap." The Undertaker said, trying his best to act casually, because this was the first real test of the boy's survival.

The prince first touched the very tips of the boy's tiny fingers with his. When no danger seemed to be forthcoming, he upgraded himself to nose-touching phase where he ran the tip of his finger over the boy's tiny nose. Nothing happened, other than the baby boy sneezing with what sounded like a cross between a growl and the usual, 'Achoo!' The prince smiled genuinely at the sweet sight, and looked back at the Undertaker for confirmation.

When the death god nodded, the prince nodded back, and brought his index finger up to his mouth, and punctured it with a canine. The dark blood started dribbling down on the tiled floor, and he slowly let the drops catch in a silver spoon that the Undertaker handed to him. When the spoon was filled half-way, the prince let the Undertaker bring it to his son's lips. The prince held his breath as he watched over the scene, and actually found himself praying that nothing bad will happen to the baby.

The dark red liquid rushed toward the edge of the spoon as the Undertaker pressed it down over the baby's lower lip and tilted it farther. Stolas gripped his hand into a fist as he watched the blood slip into the baby's mouth.

A squeal of pure delight from the baby came jumping at the two anxious adults.

The prince released an audible sigh of relief at the sound, while the Undertaker nodded in agreement. The prince then picked up his son in his arms – looking quite happy while doing so - to finally hold him. The baby's eyes glowed brightly with undisguised hunger, and the prince quickly set the baby down on a chair, then located a suitable location on his forearm and rolled up his sleeve. He then gingerly plied open the baby's jaw wider and brought the baby's open mouth to the spot where a tick blood vessel was protruding. He winced a little when he sharp set of the baby's fangs punctured the skin, then gasped a little as the baby quickly latched onto the long-overdue meal.

The prince walked around the shop, his eyes never leaving the boy, but keeping his legs moving, for his heart was dancing. His twinkling eyes and a look of rare genuine affection surprised the Undertaker. It was a rare revealing sight. From a little distance away, no one would be able to tell that this man and child were a demon prince and his child. No, this looked far more – for the lack of a more suitable expression – 'sacred'. But then, knowing all the finder details of both their lives, the Undertaker supposed he should not feel surprised.

The Undertaker moved when he saw Prince Stolas take a seat, and brought his bleeding arm out of the infant's mouth.

"Okay, I feel light-headed a bit. He surely is hungry. He has a huge appetite." The prince said as he healed his arm, while his eyes still watched the baby – now quieted down and lapping his tongue, ostensibly to savor the aftertaste of the first real meal.

The Undertaker offered the prince the same herbal drink again, and the prince took it gratefully. As if by instinct, the prince soon began tap-tapping the baby's back, until the boy burped, with a little drop of left-over blood escaping from the corner of his mouth. The Undertaker watched them, amused to see that 'the prince' was doing everything correctly, and perfectly. At this rate, the baby needed no mother.

"Do you have a diaper, or anything else that can be used as one? He hasn't been changed in quite a while, and now that he's had the first meal, his body is bound to start working in a rush." The prince asked, and waited as the Undertaker ran into the back of the shop, and came out with a handful of old towels and some powder. The prince began arranging the towels perfectly around the baby's hips, much to the amusement of the older man.

Prince Stolas gazed into the baby's face again, seemingly 'lost' in whatever the world he found himself in.

'My, my… The prince is a natural.' The Undertaker mused, his entire body sagging a bit in relief. The prince needed absolutely no help, where his child-caring skills were concerned. The moment he began hearing the prince hum softly and quite soothingly, the Undertaker rolled his eyes. The baby mewled and spattered happily until he quieted down completely. Soon after that, the prince raised his head and looked toward the Undertaker.

"He is asleep now." A small but genuine smile graced the prince's face. The Undertaker nodded.

"I can see that. I must say that I am quite impressed."

"I have done this before, and not just once." Stolas shrugged, but did not try to elaborate.

"Obviously." Knowing this demon's past, the Undertaker decided not to push. 'This is not the time', he silently muttered to himself. Stolas returned his full attention to the newborn child.

"He will probably wake up in a few hours for more." He said as he kept his index finger moving up and down the baby's tiny nose, eliciting a sound much like mewling, but with an unmistakable growl. The Undertaker secretly wondered how this child would look like when it is grown-up.

"Will he be all right now?" The Undertaker asked honestly, and saw the prince smile fondly.

"I think so. He has had quite a bit, just now. He won't need to feed as much, next time."

"How much do you think he has had, just now? In human terms."

"About a liter and a half."

The number shocked the Undertaker, making him wonder just how in the world the child was keeping it all down. The prince, however, answered like it was nothing new. The Undertaker was once again reminded of the recovery rate of demons. In a normal human adult, that single feeding would have been fatal.

"Is that a lot? I mean, for a demon baby." The Undertaker asked, thinking that amount of blood loss would be fatal to a frail human.

"It sure is a lot. But, considering that he is a male child, it's not 'too much'." The prince took a series of deep breaths before stretching himself and settling down again, looking relieved to have his blood refilled.

"Are you going to be all right?" The Undertaker knew the recovery rate of demons, but still couldn't help asking. Stolas released a relieved sigh.

"Yes. It just surprised me, is all. I have never fed a demon baby before. I knew the biology a little bit, but never fed one with my own blood." The prince looked up at the Undertaker with an oddly indulgent smile. The Undertaker lightly motioned for the baby, which seemed to be zonked out and completely oblivious to all that was going on around him.

"Does your …race usually do this? Feed the baby with blood, I mean."

"Yes. Until the baby is old enough to start consuming soft meat, then to something harder such as muscle tissues". The prince answered matter-of-factly, to which the Undertaker could only nod.

"How long away will that be?" It was practical question, with a myriad hidden question beneath the surface.

"It should be in about a year." The prince replied, his eyes looking toward the ceiling in the classical manner of a man trying to recall a once-forgotten memory. The Undertaker sighed.

"Oh, my." The Undertaker released an audible sigh. The prince quickly caught on, and swiftly moved to ease the underlining concern.

"It does not need to be 'me' once the child develops enough resistance to other blood types."

"Which leads to the question…" The Undertaker left the rest unanswered, and the prince finished the sentence with his own answer.

"How long will it take for 'that' to happen? Not long, I would think. However, it all depends on the baby's natural tolerance. The amount of blood that the baby received during feeding also influences in the speed of the baby's immune-system build-up." The prince did not like hearing his own answer, and it showed. The Undertaker nodded in understanding, and moved on to cover the more practical questions.

"Can they substitute the blood of demons with something else?"

"Yes. Human blood will always be an excellent substitute."

"What do you think is the chance of finding a suitable 'milk-maid' or someone who can feed him blood?" The Undertaker offered, watching the prince's reaction closely. To his surprise, though, Stolas gave him a downcast look of someone who was plotting something he wants to keep confidential.

"…I have an idea." Stolas answered carefully. The Undertaker raised his eyebrows in question.

"Not Ciel?"

"No. Ciel has no running blood, although he does have a body. His blood – how should I say – is there in his body, but it is not replaceable. The emotional reactions he has – such as blushing with embarrassment, which he does a lot of, as well as going red with anger, and sweats and breathe roughly – they all happen, but they are nothing but illusions. He feels everything – including his internal organs working – because he 'believes' them to be there just as they were there while he was alive. The same goes for the food and drink he now 'consumes'. He would still feel 'satisfied' and 'filled' when he consumes them, but he never needs a trip to a restroom. It took a bit of practice for Ciel to really understand the mechanism of a corporeal body given by a demon."

"…Okay." The Undertaker waited unit the prince was done before replying, his mind working furiously. "…So, who do you have in mind?"

"A demon maid in my palace. She is a …well, her status is my slave, and she cleans my palace." Stolas did not elaborate, but the Undertaker sensed there were many the unspoken details about this 'maid / slave'. 'All in good time, then.' Undertaker thought to himself and did not persuade the prince to provide the rest of the details.

"Can she exist 'here'?" The Undertaker decided to spill a bean. The prince blinked a few times before he digested the meaning behind the statement.

"I think so. She is not a pure-blooded demon." The prince watched as the Undertaker's mouth made the silent 'O', and went ahead. "She will not dare go against my orders."

Now that some juicy details were spilling out, the Undertaker felt the need to reassure the prince.

"All details can be kept confidential. I will not need to know anything right now, other than that you trust her with your child's life, as well as your own." The Undertaker cautioned the prince. Stolas shook his head.

"It is not exactly 'affection' we have for one another, but it is a …mutual respect. She is not my ...'mate' by any definition. We do not have such physical intimacy."

"So, she has not raised a child before?" The Undertaker raised his eyebrows in question.

"No." The prince answered with a straight face, to which the other man showed concern.

"Will she be okay with this one?"

"I turned out okay." The prince's expression went unchanged, but the moment he spoke the words, his grip on the baby tightened almost unnoticeably, and he turned his body sideways as if to escape the Undertaker's searching gaze.

"That is because you are who you are." The Undertaker commented drily, but did not give any further explanation. Stolas sensed with increasing certainty that this 'supposedly' retired death god was hiding something – really big – about Stolas himself. It irked him to no end, but he cautioned himself to proceed carefully. "Besides, what do you mean 'you' turned out okay? She did not raise you or anything, is she?"

"No, that was not what I meant. I …she cared for me whenever I was hurt, and …whenever I was otherwise incapacitated." It was very obvious to the Undertaker that Stolas did not want to talk about this supposed 'maid'. So, he plodded a bit more.

"You mean, when you went to battles and such?"

"Yes, and after I …returned from my king's castle." Stolas looked down at his sleeping son, and did not try to meet the Undertaker's eyes. The death god never missed this slight crack of composure in this demon prince.

"Wait. I fail to understand why you would need the care of this maid after coming home from your job." The Undertaker was asking an honest question, but the moment he voiced his own question, he remembered how loads of deceased souls – regardless of who or what they were – spoke about what the fallen angel had done directly or indirectly, and shuddered inwardly. Fear was one of the most effective and potent tools demons used, and the great fallen angel was no exception.

"This is Great Lord Lucifer we are talking about. As much as I loathe this fact, he is my king, and I am not at liberty to speak about anything he has said or done in his own castle." The prince's tone became edgy with every word, and the Undertaker backed off.

"Of course. I apologize." The Undertaker apologized, startling Stolas in the process. The look of surprise on the demon prince's face lasted only for a few short seconds. The Undertaker wore his customary grin to clear the air, and continued. "…So, what will you do with this 'maid' of yours?"

"I will teach her everything I know about caring for an infant. Besides, there is another …'soul' of mine, who is a female but she is like Ciel. I took her life and soul to bring her back with me, to my palace."

"So, in short, she cannot feed your son." The Undertaker summed it up for the prince, wanting to know where the man was going with it. But then, he noticed for the first time that the prince was having trouble finding his words.

"She is …the closest thing I have to 'a mate' and a …maybe a …I am not sure, but …a lover, maybe. She does love me, but I never did love her back. I kept her for other reasons, as well, but…"

"You do 'mate' with her." The Undertaker finished the sentence for him. The prince nodded.

"…Yes, and I have …mated with her soon after my return with Ciel."

"Why is it that you refuse to take a proper wife, or a fiancée? You are after-all, a crowned prince with a considerable territory and followers."

"I probably have to chalk that one up to my father. I seem to have developed certain distaste or an 'aversion' toward the Hell's creatures that are my potential wives, or mates, even."

"What do you like about mating with humans?" This was an honest question that was on the Undertaker's mind for a long time.

The Undertaker had sensed it when this particular demon first came to this world, and when he came into his shop with Ciel Phantomhive the first time. This demon clearly cared about humans, and the funny thing was, he himself did not seem to know it. However, if the Undertaker could sense this, then Lucifer would have seen it clearly as the flame that blazed through Hell. That must have irritated the fallen angel to no end. It also must have given Lucifer the perfect excuse to torment the poor prince to see whether or not his favorite raven and his best voice of wisdom would betray him in the end. The Undertaker shuddered thinking of ways and methods Lucifer could have been using to test Prince Stolas's loyalty.

"Humans are fallible. They are vulnerable and easily manipulated. But, once in a while, you do meet those rare souls that just make you want to protect them, and to make them your own. She was like that. She literally gives me everything she has got to give: her body, heart, mind, and will. But only to me, and nobody else. The most amazing thing is that she is doing so out of her own free will. She is always ready for me, able to play along with whatever I fancy at any given time, to obey my commands or even run errands, when I feel like making her run them. She is enough, for now at least, to satisfy my physical needs. She also never tires of me for some reason."

"That is quite rare. Demons, especially after 'feeding' and returning to Hell, often go on days and weeks or sometimes months of marathon orgy." The Undertaker kept his comment as dry as possible without divulging just how he knew this habit about demons. To his surprise, Stolas shot him a fiery glare and a look of distaste. 'Uh-oh, I've touched his nerve.' The Undertaker thought.

"I am not one of them. Although, I confess that I used to be. I used to be gone for weeks, just mating with anyone suitable. Especially after my return from …wherever it is that I cannot recall, and right after I spread the Black Death in Europe and had a huge feast on souls. I had far too much pent-up energy to go dormant. So…" The prince deliberately left the rest of his sentence unfinished.

"…So, you threw yourself into pleasures of the …well, the indecent kinds." The Undertaker finished Stolas's sentence. To this, Stolas nodded a confirmation.

"Yes. But, I also had this …growing inner craving that made me seek 'peace' and some 'semblance of stability'. So, after a time, I went back up to the world of the living to find myself some masters, and learned self-discipline. Then, I went on to gain a lot of knowledge and respect for the art, science, and technology that the humans were discovering, and developing." As he spoke, Stolas's eyes shone with the memories of whatever experiences he had while living among the humans, and the Undertaker could not help but feel a pang of guilt for the demon prince.

Portal Site

An Unnamed Forest

Near Preston, England

Noon – Same day

There was a LOT of things that William T. Spears disliked in this world of humans. For one thing, this was where all worlds collided from all sides, along with all their creatures big or small.

However, nothing managed to make him feel more discomfort than having to face demons on this earth. They were the vermin who stole the souls of those departing. It was the duty of every death god to safeguard these departing souls and reap them to be judged and dealt with accordingly.

…Well, currently, Spears was not just dealing with a single demon. He was dealing with a group of several demons and another group of their guards. They had their guards, weapons, and a dark purpose. Spears had his pride, duty, dressed in his second best suit, and had his trusty death scythe.

Demons generally loved to talk in riddles and play word games. Spears generally liked neither.

"Well, well, well… They say 'there is a god', but I never saw one with my own …three eyes." One of them said teasingly, walking up to the elite death god for a closer look. Spears saw that this man had a third eye hidden beneath his long bangs. He supposed this demon usually kept that eye either closed, invisible, or hidden better to blend into the human culture.

"Although we would more than love to have some fun with you, our business is not with you." Another one commented, tapping his foot while he directed his feral eyes and tried his best – though unsuccessfully – to break into the death god's mind. Spears cleared his throat.

"I do not understand why there is any need for this entourage, then."

"We are in search for a powerful demon." Another one, looking decidedly like a war lord with the Vikings, mentioned. Spears adjusted his eyeglasses.

"Well, then, I suppose all you have to do is look around yourselves."

"That is funny, but we are looking for – no, hunting for – a wanted demon, whom we know have fled to this area." Spears sighed.

"You will have to be more specific than that. What is the name of this wanted demon?"

"We do not commonly reveal…" The three-eyed demon began the usual tirade, and Spears snapped.

"Enough." Spears blocked the rest of the demon's sentence. He was tired of this nonsense, and stalling tactic. "Do you have the proper permissions to even use this portal? This one can usually be used only by us, and by the highest of noble demons, but only in extreme case of emergencies."

"Ohhh, so you ARE one of the elite death gods. This is becoming FUN." The only female demon purred behind Spears, stirring his perfectly styled hair with her fiery red sparrow wings. Spears inwardly cursed himself.

"Who opened this portal?"

"Well …someone who is not among us. Let's leave it at that."

"Then, what are you?" Spears asked,

"We are demons, silly." The female demon answered, slurring her words on purpose as if she was flirting with him. This disgusted Spears to the point of gritting his teeth. If there was something Spears hated more than word games and stalling, it was being led around in a wild goose chase.

"Stop beating around the bush and get to the point. Who are you hunting, and why?"

"Now, now… I believe it is our turn to ask the questions." A tall, burley demon who was dressed in a stereotypical military uniform of an unknown origin suddenly grabbed Spears's shoulders from behind, but Spears was quicker. Death gods had speed and fluidity of body movements that rivaled those of demons. Even Grell could match the speed of prince Stolas. These demons could not hold a candle to Spears. Spears landed several feet from the circle of demons almost soundlessly.

"Ohhh, don't be shy. We just want to ask you a question or two."

"Then, state your business and be quick about it." Spears demanded, not letting his uneasiness show even when he realized that the scarlet winged female had disappeared while he was mid-air. He kept trying to sense her, but the female demon was apparently leaping around, although she stayed nearby. They were trying to break his concentration, and to his lasting annoyance, they were succeeding.

"We are looking for someone who recently returned to the Underworld after completing a contract with an Earl of Phantomhive." The burly demon stated, confirming Spears's worst fears.

"This portal was opened by a powerful demon – one of the most renowned, powerful demons of all time, whose name we are not at liberty to reveal. But, I will give you a big hint."

"Ohhh, yes. Hint, hint." The three-eyed demon said, and a split second later, he felt before he actually saw – for death gods were not equipped with good eyesight – a dead raven thrown in his face. Spears drew his breath at the sight of the horribly mangled bird, whose wings bore the unmistakable seal of one prince Stolas. Not the 'Mark of the Beast' that the spiteful demon prince used to sport, but the actual seal of Stolas himself. Spears quickly collected himself.

"Aside from being a witness to your demonstration on how to improperly take care of a bird, what am I supposed to gain from this?!"

"A message, my dear, from the lady of the house." Spears processed the voice, and jumped into the air to flee the scarlet wings – a split second too late. Before he went no higher than a foot off of the ground, the scarlet wings wrapped his body and threw him off balance. Before he touched the ground with his hand and righted himself, the servants of the demons, who had until now been observing the scene with glee, came down upon him and kept him on the ground.

"Well, now. Let us ask you some questions, and YOU WILL ANSWER us, this time." The three-eyed demon now stared down at Spears with glowing violet eyes. Spears struggled, but could not overpower what he guessed were about twenty lower-class servants of the demons.

"Now, the first question is – " The feral-eyed demon, who was trying to break into Spears's mind earlier, approached slowly, then with a quickness that defied his earlier lazy tone, stumped Spears right on the forehead with his combat boot. Spears yelled, feeling the inhuman strength with which the boot was pressing his head against the ground. "Who the hell are you?"

Spears then felt a hand grope his jacket and slacks, which eventually locate his identity cards.

"Hey, don't be too rough, huh? Our orders are clear. Just bring back the fugitive, do not kill anything, and leave no trace of our presence – except to those we question." The three-eyed demon reminded his comrades. .

"Well, then, handsome guy…" The feral eyes drove their gaze in to Spears's mind with a ferocity Spears had never had to face before. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give in. "WHAT ARE YOU HIDING FROM US?!" The demon's voice was not entering him through Spears's ears, but rather through his mind. 'Telepathy', Spears recognized. However, this was no ordinary telepathy. This felt as though the demon was trying to pry his head open with an iron rake. The pain increased exponentially the harder Spears struggled. He desperately searched his memory for a useful knowledge to seal his mind. It was difficult, but he eventually found one, and silently congratulated himself before uttering the spell in the language only death gods used, then let himself lose consciousness to seal his mind from the outer world.

"Tsk!" The feral eyed demon kicked the now-unconscious death god with his pointed boot.

"Let's put a trace on him. It'll keep him down for quite a while. By the time he realizes what it is, we'll know where he is stationed, and what's better, it'll be too late to save him." The scarlet-winged female demon offered, her lips splitting in a malicious smile before she took one of her feathers in her hand. She uttered some words in her own language, and the feather was turned into an egg. They watched curiously as it cracked and hatched, letting a worm-like silvery entity the size of an adult's index finger come out of the shell. She then unceremoniously tugged at Spears's clothing until she exposed his naval, then let the creature crawl into it, to eventually disappear into Spears's unmoving body.

"Okay, guys. Let's go. We have a lot of work cut out for us." Their leader commented before they disappeared into the forest that surrounded them.

The Undertaker's Shop

An Unnamed Street

London, England

6PM – Same Day

Stolas was wrapping the freshly cleaned old towels around his son's hips when there was a rapping at the shop door. The Undertaker, who was playing finger games with the newborn, looked up, startled. There had to have been some kind of dire emergency for anyone to come knocking on this particular door. When he did open the door, however, he was met with a sight he had never seen before.

"I see that you sent my best man to guard the portal site?" A voice he recognized from a long while ago came flowing in his ear.

"Y… Yes, sir. William Spears, that is who I sent." Undertaker was alarmed. There was a sigh from the other side of the door. "…And that is who you have with you." Undertaker commented. The hooded figure – who used to be the Undertaker's colleague, unceremoniously handed the apparently unconscious, ruffled-up Spears over to the Undertaker to catch.

"What is the matter?" Stolas asked, leaving the baby for a moment on the couch and approaching the two death gods. The Undertaker was not sure if it was wise for the prince to meet his now-superior, but the hooded figure remained hooded, and outside of the threshold.

"You are Prince Stolas, I believe?" The hooded figure asked, and Stolas nodded cautiously. "He had this with him when I found him." The death god said, and tossed Stolas a cloth-wrapped item. Stolas caught the small parcel, and opened it while the Undertaker took Spears inside and laid him atop the counter. A loud gasp of shock came from the prince, however, and Undertaker hurriedly returned to the door.

It was more in the way the prince's hands were shaking, and the tightening of his shoulders, than the expression on his face that told him the impact this had on the demon prince. The undertaker watched as his superior laid a hand on Stolas's shoulder, then left without saying anything further – not even to the Undertaker, who had never seen the old death god express such a sentiment to a demon.

"Prince Stolas, let us close the door. I need to tend to Spears. He is hurt."

It was the Undertaker's last comment that brought Stolas back from wherever his mind has gone to. He shook his head, then brought the cloth-wrapped item to the desk where Undertaker did his paperwork, then went back to his son to quickly finish wrapping the towels and replaced him into the basket.

"The couch is open. You can bring him here." Prince offered, his voice still not back to its original tone. The Undertaker shook his head.

"Thanks, but I think this is actually better to do on the …table." He replied, then took Spears off of the counter to bring him to the back room where there were two metal tables and lots of shining metal instruments, all of which were used to prepare mangled bodies for the funerals.

That caught Stolas's attention, and he helped the Undertaker lay Spears on the table. They began checking on the injuries first, seeing that there was no excessive bleeding. He had an aberration at the back of his head, and a closer examination by Stolas revealed a slight crack at the same spot. When his palm skimmed the torso, he felt the tearing on the ligaments and some muscle fiber at the base of his arm. However, when the hand came over the abdominal area, he stopped, startled.

"Sir Undertaker?"

"Huh? ...Ahh, you are talking about me."

"Is there anyone else?" There was no hint of humor in Stolas's voice. "I need you to listen to me very carefully, and do exactly as I say, and I will explain everything along the way." The extremely serious expression on the prince shut up the Undertaker, and he nodded. "Get his clothes off, and give me the permission to use whatever instruments in here, in this room, without question." The Undertaker nodded. "Please also prepare a …a glass beaker full of pure alcohol solution, then ready the furnace at the back of the shop that you use for cremating small bodies – or body parts."

"Yes, I will."

"Thank you. …And, keep Spears 'under'." Stolas put emphasis on 'under', and began looking around for whatever he needed. This puzzled the Undertaker.

"Under …what, exactly?"

"Unconscious, is more like it, so that he doesn't suddenly wake up in pain."

"How thoughtful."

"I am deadly serious, sir. I have NOT done this in a very long while, and never on a death god."

"Do …what exactly?" Now, the Undertaker was worried more than curious. Stolas's reply was dry and deliberately businesslike.

"Performing an operation. As in, surgery."

"S-Surgery?!" Now, this was something the Undertaker never expected to hear.

"Well, that is what he needs, if he wants to survive, and if WE want to survive."

"Is he sick?" This was puzzling to the Undertaker, because death gods did not get sick from anything in the human world.

"No, not really, but I can feel something emitting some kind of signal from inside Spears, and if I am not mistaken about what it is, then it needs to be taken out of him immediately. I can put humans, demons, and animals to a deep-sleep state, but they all require different spell. I don't know one for death gods."

"If you are asking for an anesthesia, I don't have any. My clients are all dead on arrival."

"All the more reason to keep him asleep. I need to…" Stolas speed-talked while rifling through the shelves embedded into the walls. "I need to cut him open, although I will keep healing whatever I cut, and take this tracer out. …Where is your best scalpel?"

"Scalpel? I will get it for you. Please perform this operation with bear hands." The Undertaker spoke as he readied the scalpel, and the alcohol-filled beaker nearby. Stolas nodded and took off his gloves, then rolled up his sleeves and washed his nails and hands thoroughly as the Undertaker undressed Spears.

"Whoever did this," Stolas talked while he disinfected the spot for incision. "…is extremely serious about finding us." He brought the lit lamp closer to the spot to see well. "To be placing or even using this type of tracer…" He said as he laid his palm very close to the unconscious man's belly without actually touching. It was to see how much movement the tracer was making, before nodding to himself and making the first incision.

Blood oozed out of the cut the prince made, and it spread as the scalpel kept moving downward, stopping at about a few inches from where the first pubic hair was growing. "…on a god, means these guys are ruthless hunters. They are probably the bounty hunters who will use anything or any method that will get them their prey." Stolas kept explaining as he plied open the opened belly, and started exploring.

"However, to open the portal, they would need an assistance of a powerful demon that can actually come up to this world." Stolas moved his fingers gracefully, but swiftly, shifting the internal organs around in search for what he believed to be a silky-white, worm-like organism. "Bounty hunters have no such authority. They could only have been hired by a noble demon. …Oh, damn." Stolas stopped for a moment, before delving inside Spears's body again. "I saw it. I saw it, but… it's gone behind …somewhere around …here!" With a particularly vicious yank of his hand, Stolas brought out the twitching worm and dropped it into the alcohol Undertaker was holding.

"Go and burn that thing to ashes, and scatter the ashes around in the air. Don't leave them in a pile." Stolas instructed, then began repairing the damages the tracer and his fingers caused to the intestines of the still-unconscious death god. The Undertaker strangely remained quiet as he moved around and did as he was told. It was to terrifying to imagine what would have happened to them all, had Stolas not found the tracer in time.

When the Undertaker came back, however, the demon prince was still in the middle of the operation, and now there was a small pile of bloody tissues on a small metal plate he was using for collecting the used cotton balls.

"Ahhh, what happened?"

"The tracer was in for long enough to eat some holes into Spears's intestinal tissues. I am simply removing the damaged section, then reconnecting the healthy tissues. I am looking to see if there is any spot I missed." With that, the prince began actually lifting the intestines out of Spears's body to slide it over his palm like sausage. The Undertaker, seeing what was being done to his colleague, actually felt queasy and left the room to look after the newborn, instead.

When Stolas actually came out of the make-shift operation room, the Undertaker was looking at the cloth-wrapped thing Stolas was gazing at earlier.

"So, this was one of your…?"

"Yes, he was the best of all guards I had. The wings bear my own symbol on the inside. To have him be so …I don't know. To overpower someone such as him is no easy task. Especially not for any fanged creature, aside from the dragons, because the fanged creatures are generally not made for flying. …But, these tooth marks are not made by dragons. They look more like …a snake's. A serpent, to be exact." Stolas grew silent right there, and the Undertaker did not pursue the matter further.

"What should I do with Spears?" The Undertaker changed the subject.

"I healed every wound he had, but the skull fracture was a tricky one. He might have some residual pains from that wound, but the rest of him, including the ligament damage, was light enough to heal by spells. No medicine will be needed for follow-ups. He also might have some light-headedness from the blood loss. I suggest you feed him whatever death gods need in order to boost the production of fresh blood." Stolas said matter-of-factly, then sat down next to the basket, with the now-deceased guard in his lap.

"I'll arrange for a burial here. He shouldn't go back 'there'." The Undertaker offered, to which Stolas nodded gratefully.

"Thank you. I believe that to be the best."

"Anything you would like to put on the headstone?"

"Just… that he was the most loyal, formidable, and intelligent soldier a prince could ask for. …Something like that, and shorten it a little. I will leave it up to you." Stolas said as he sighed. "Do you need help re-dressing Spears?" He offered, but Undertaker declined, feeling the prince's need for privacy.

The Undertaker's Shop

An Unnamed Street

London, England

9PM – Same Day

As soon as William T. Spears regained consciousness, he demanded explanations for what happened to him after he was attacked by 'a bunch of thugs'. Both Stolas and the Undertaker, however, stuck the to the bear facts and left out the part about the surgery for the elite death god's benefit.

"And, where are my eyeglasses?" Spears said, frustrated that he couldn't see very well. Death gods naturally saw what no one else saw, and virtually lived in a different dimension. For this, they all had poor eyesight. …Well, an eternity of watching cinematic record reels and examining death documents could be tough on the eyes.

"You can retrieve your spare pair when you get back to the office." The Undertaker commented drily.


	6. Chapter 5

*An important announcement: Please give a big hand to GoodbyeMyHeart, as I am granted the honor of welcoming her as my 'Co-Author', starting from Chapter 6: Unprecedented Negotiation, or Chapter 7: Hunger Pains. As I am a huge fan of her work, it is wonderful that she has agreed to work with me for the remainder of this story. Also, please be noted that, since I received a series of wonderful advices from her, there could be noticeable plot changes that had been made to make this story better. In which case, I will try and smooth it out as best I can over the next several chapters.

*A suggestion: go watch the You Tube Kuroshitsuji Music Video called 'Kuroshitsuji - Halo - FINISHED!' by TheEdgyBubble' at the following link! I absolutely loved it, and I hope that you will, too. Just go to You Tube, then after 'youtube', paste the following letters: .com/watch?v=-MVj7gnO1_c&feature=channel ...If you can fine the time, please also go watch another one of her masterpiece called 'A Demon's Love ... - The Final Memories of Kurshitsuji~'. These two videos, along with a Sarah Brightman's CD titled "Amalfi", REALLY helped me move on with this story.

*Another source of inspiration: Please accept my sincerest thanks for everyone who has posted generous comments on the Review page. They really fueled my creativity and energy to continue.

Chapter 5: Friends in High Places

"_The Bubble" – a.k.a. The Secret Room_

_Basement_

_Palace of Stolas_

_4th Week after the Departure of Stolas _

_24 Hours after the Confinement of Stolas in 'Earth Time'_

There was A LOT of things which the former Earl of Phantomhive, Ciel Phantomhive would have given in order to have the authority and properties he once had as a living human being. However, he was being force-fed something unpleasant called 'reality' one after another without a respite to actually digest each mouthful that he kept swallowing in order to survive. – Well, the word 'survive' had a whole lot different meaning than it used to.

For one, he never once had a heavily armed troop come pounding the walls of neither his manor nor the townhouse. He never had to face an army surrounding his place of residence nor any of his work place. If he had, then he had no knowledge of it, because oftentimes either his servants or Sebastian took care of such nuisance without informing Ciel.

Currently, though, that very capable Sebastian was the one who was missing, and he had no servant to speak of, because his status was lower than any of them. He looked toward the ceiling as another piece of the ceiling tile cracked and fell right beside him with a 'thud'. Then, he winced – and he hated himself for doing this a lot lately – as yet another 'BOOM' was heard right outside the room, where what he supposed was a gigantic battering ram was pounding against the walls of the room 'they' had uncovered.

Ciel then curled further into the mattress as he had been doing since he had given up on trying to come up with a way to defend his fortress. He had nothing he could do, because he had no weapon. He would have fought bare-handed, if possible, but the enemy was still outside the door.

The only source of information he had, was the wounded and still-bleeding bird which was currently bandaged up by one of Ciel's shirts which he had torn into three pieces to turn it into makeshift bandages. The broken leg of the bird had also been set, although he had received a dozen pecking wounds in the process, because the bird did not understand that Ciel was trying to help him, and because he was not a trained physician and the process most likely hurt the bird much more than it should have.

When he did contact Sebastian after screaming himself hoarse, he got the feeling that not every word (or thought) was getting through to the prince, and it frustrated him to no end. However, after not receiving anything for a whole week – which he understood to be mere few hours on Earth – he came to the conclusion that either his lord was incapacitated, or that he was in confinement himself and could not contact him. Somehow, though, he knew in his heart that his lord had no intension of abandoning his kingdom without at least putting up a fight.

He wished that at least his lone companion could speak in English, or French or what little Spanish words he had learned, or maybe use telepathy so that he could sense its emotions. However, for the moment, the bird only spoke the language of birds, or some language that only demons used, and it was no use. Since the wings had been severed off of the bird and one of its legs broken, the bird couldn't go anywhere. Ciel had no medicine in this room, either, so the bird went, for the most part, untreated. Ciel's only consolation is that the bleeding had stopped due to the very tight bandaging job he had done. Since then, he kept the bird held in his arms.

The headless and very-dead bird that had been tied back-to-back with its companion had also been cleaned up by Ciel himself, who picked out another shirt – a dark navy one – that was in Ciel's possession. Ciel was very sure from the look on the other bird's eyes that the companion was someone important to him, and therefore treated it with respect. He had given its body a thorough washing, and found that it had Stolas's own personal symbol somehow imprinted into the insides of its wings. Ciel had drained as much of its remaining blood as possible, so as to keep the staining on the shirt to a minimum.

Once the bird was cleaned and wrapped, Ciel looked for something else he could do. Failing to find anything else to give to the bird, Ciel took out a burgundy silk ribbon which he often used in place of a necktie, then crisscrossed it around the wings, to finish tying it in a butterfly-bow at its back. He surveyed his work, and nodded in satisfaction. He finally wrapped the now-decolated bird in the dress shirt, carefully folding its legs properly. He even took are to cut off the sleeves and removed all the buttons out of the way, before securing the shirt closed by a brooch. He showed his work to the other bird, who had been watching Ciel the entire time, and received a nod in acknowledgment. He laid the bird on the center of the desk, where it lay.

It was about a week into Stolas's disappearance that everything began going awry. First, it was a series of commotion that was hardly audible. Then, the sound progressed to a series of cracking, rustling, slashing and yelling that are commonly heard during fights, but those stopped pretty quickly. From there, began the incessant pounding, hacking, and creaking that came. These frightened Ciel the most, because he knew by instinct that something had gone awfully wrong, and that a group of enemy troops were tearing things down in his lord's palace.

Although he knew that this room was heavily protected, the fact that these birds were sent right inside this very room meant that things or beings that were much worse could also be sent within these walls.

As much as Ciel wanted to scream for help, he now was afraid of making any sound for the fear of being discovered from outside.

However, all thoughts fled from his mind once he heard a loud – and foreboding – growl that was followed by a huge barking sound of what sounded suspiciously like a pack of wolves or a blood-thirsty demon hounds he had heard about.

He rifled through his memory for any reference regarding demon dogs, and only came up with a few. Pluto was of course dead, its soul nowhere to be found. There were few other famous demon dogs, but they had all perished in the last Great War in between the creatures of both heaven and hell. That left only one other option, and considering their predicament, this one actually felt the most fitting answer. Ciel held the injured bird tighter in his arms, knowing that it probably understood the human language more than it ever showed, and decided to put his theory to the test.

"Is that Cerberus we just heard? As in Cerberus, the three-headed demon dog and …Sebastian's half-brother?"

The reaction from the bird was immediate, as soon as Ciel voiced the two names in the same sentence. It turned its head toward Ciel, and pecked him on the forehead as if in warning. When the barking came much closer and its heavy footsteps made the whole room vibrate, the bird actually trembled. That reaction from the bird made Ciel shut his mouth.

Ciel Phantomhive very rarely let himself shed tears – especially not from fright – since that fateful day Stolas formed the Faustian Contract with him. However, at this moment in time, he let them flow freely over his cheeks, to trickle down to soak the sheets beneath his body. He felt in his heart more strongly than ever that somehow his new lord was not faring any better than himself, or the other occupants of this palace.

He did not know whether or not this qualifies a coup de tar, but had a feeling that those who wanted Stolas gone, as in obliterated, had finally joined force, and decided to strike while the raven prince was absent and in confinement.

Ciel thought long and hard, analyzing their respective situations in his mind from every possible angle. Stolas had not explained everything to Ciel just yet, but being a master game player himself, Ciel Phantomhive knew exactly what his lord – his keeper and future king – must do in order to not only survive, but to win the game eventually.

'SEBASTIAN!!' Ciel Screamed in his mind, not caring whether or not the raven prince really heard him. 'DO NOT COME BACK! YOU WILL BE FLYING STRAIGHT INTO THEIR TRAP!!'

Ciel knew exactly what he was doing, and the consequences of his actions. He had a really good idea of what would be awaiting him, if Stolas actually listened to Ciel's advice. That fact, more than anything, made the tears flow faster on Ciel Phantomhive's cheeks. 'Just …abandon us. Please, Sebastian.'

Just as Stolas had commented earlier, this scenario was almost too terrible to contemplate. Ciel could only keep repeating his thoughts as loudly as possible, until Stolas could somehow receive his telepathic message.

_The Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street_

_London, England_

_2 Hours After William T. Spears's Return - Earth Time_

_5__th __Week After the Confinement of Stolas – Underworld Time_

William T. Spears, now under a strict order to provide his superiors with the detailed account of his earlier altercation with the demon bounty hunters, was busy at the desk in the Undertaker's shop, drawing the descriptive pictures of his offenders. Next to him, Stolas watched and listened closely as Spears worked.

"One of them had three eyes. …Like these." William Spears added the third eye on the portrait of the demon, then showed it to Stolas, who shook his head.

"I do not …recognize that one. I am very sorry." Undeterred, Spears continued on, adding a few finishing touches to the man's bangs and began writing down the color of the eyes, the description of the clothes, and what powers he had used on Spears.

"This one seemed to be …some sort of an advisor. Not the leader, but someone who provided …a voice of reason, should I say?"

"He made the others stop their assault on you?" The Undertaker asked, making tea for the stop's three occupants. Spears nodded.

"He reminded the other of what their orders were. 'Not to kill anything, and to leave no trace of their presence except to those they question.'"

"Are they…? " Stolas nearly spilled the beans on the elite death god, and shut his mouth.

"They what?" Spears asked, annoyed at the interruption on his thoughts.

"Nothing. I am really sorry. Did they use anything on you that you have noticed?"

"Just this …extremely powerful telepathy. It felt like it was splitting my skull open. I have never met anyone who could use such powerful telepathy before. Is that a common skill among your kind?" It was an honest question, and Stolas took it as such.

"Only select few would have such levels of telepathy. …Great Lord Lucifer uses it routinely, probably to check whether or not anyone close to him was betraying him." Stolas commented, his mind now flowing with all the unpleasant memories. Spears nodded, then went on to another half-finished drawing.

"Then, there was this large man who was very muscular, and was dressed like a sailor or a naval officer of some kind. He had brute strength, and he used it freely on me. However, he did not seem very intelligent." Spears explained as he added the finishing touches on this man's drawing. Stolas shook his head, feeling worse as each drawing failed to connect his own memories of known bounty hunters.

"I ..don't recognize that one, either. I am very sorry." Stolas shook his head.

"You might recognize the next one, though." Spears said as he began to draw what looked like a cross between an angel and Stolas himself. As Stolas watched William draw, a certain feeling of dread come seeping into the corners of his mind – the very corners of his mind to which he tried mostly not to approach too closely.

William added flowing strands of hair on the increasingly familiar-looking demon, then drew an arrow with the word, 'black strands with green highlights'. Then, he drew a tight-fitting leather dress, with black stiletto-heeled boots and added a pair of rather full breasts on the figure's chest. Stolas's fear was confirmed when William added the finishing touches to the eyes and the wings.

"I know that one. She has red wings, doesn't she?" Spears seemed surprised, but nodded a yes. "I don't …I had no idea why she would turn into a bounty hunter, because she used to be one of the aids to the Coucil. More like a …a secretary, but …she never was suited for combat. …What changed in her so much, I am not sure."

"She was very skilled at breaking my concentration. She could leap around and disappear, then she was suddenly right behind me. She may not have had much physical strength, but she was extremely quick." Spears explained, trying to recall everything about her.

"Did you …? I mean, when you were brought in, you had nothing with you, except for your clothing. Your eyeglasses were not the only missing thing. Your IDs and your name card, which I know you must be carrying with you at al times, were also missing. Can they use those items to …maybe infiltrate your world?" Stolas meant this as an honest question, but received a familiar vicious look of anger from the elite death god.

"Why did you think I sensed you when you came into our world, and stepped into the library? Demons carry distinct odors that no perfume in the world will erase. The smell that those vermin carried with them was practically stifling." As Spears spoke, his voice rose with each word, and Stolas backed off.

"…My apologies. If I am offending your sense of smell, please let me know." Stolas was not looking to irritate the already-flustered man any further. However, to his lasting shock, Spears snorted, and said,

"Strangely enough, you do not smell half as bad. I dare say, you carry a smell that is distinctly familiar to me, although I cannot identify what it is, and it is annoying me to no end."

"Familiar? How exactly is it familiar?" Stolas was genuinely curious. Spears shook his head. Neither noticed that the Undertaker's expression changed from curiosity to one of deep thoughts, his mouth flat-lining.

It was a little more than an hour later that the great death god dropped by, and took the drawings from Spears. Spears was also again properly equipped with a spare pair of eyeglasses and a new set of IDs, curtesy of his superiors. The great death god then informed that the entire city of London and its surroundings had been closed down to all non-human traffic, but that there was a matter which called for their attention.

All the occupants of the room – except for Stolas who was again feeding the baby his blood, took notes of their discussion.

"Prince Stolas, you have consented to the execution of the mother of your son. Correct?"

"…Yes, sir. However, I did so only because I was told that …having her body burned to ashes while she was still alive and had her soul inside her body, would cleanse the soul enough to be …delivered to heaven." Stolas looked down at the baby, who is happily sucking on his father's forearm. The great death god nodded, then raised his eyebrows as if to question Stolas.

"You do understand the risks, then?"

"…What are they?" Stolas actually failed to remember whether or not the Undertaker actually explained the risks. He quickly glanced to the Undertaker, who remained expressionless.

"If she gets too caught up in her darker emotions such as hate, desire for revenge, greed, jealousy, pride, or sadness which runs too deeply, her soul may become tempted to …go through the darker path. Any refusal to believe in god will also damage her chance of getting her soul cleansed enough for the brighter path." The eldest death god regarded the demon prince with sympathetic look, especially when he saw the prince's expression darkening with every word.

"WHAT?!" Stolas hadn't counted on this. He shot a burning look at the Undertaker who shrugged. Stolas growled. "…When is the burning?"

"At 7 O'clock in the morning." The Undertaker offered, then winced as the demon prince shot him another fierce look and stood from his seat. He walked briskly to the eldest death god, not caring about how he looked at that point.

"It could go on for anywhere from less than an hour, or for as long as close to 3 hours, if something goes wrong." Spears chipped in, and the idea horrified Stolas to the point of feeling his stomach revult.

"NO! I cannot put her through all of that, and STILL have her end up in hell!"

"Well, Hell is your territory, prince Stolas. You can most likely protect her better there." Spears offered, to which the prince responded with a glare.

"That was before all the unrest! Since it looks like I wouldn't be alive for much longer, seeing as I am on the death list, and being kept alive only through your good graces, I do not see any benefit to her going to hell at this point. If you had told me about this while I still had a safe territory, along with legions of demons who swore to follow and support me, I would have taken her soul with just a kiss on the mouth and kept her with me without going through all this fuss."

"This buring should not have been allowed to take place at all, as England has banned the practice nearly 200 years ago during King George III's reign." Spears added for the prince's benefit. "...Although, that does not mean that persecutions against witchcraft ever stopped, and since this is something that the humans started, we have nothing to say to them. We just would like to keep doing our jobs, in accordance with the rules which were set for us by the highest of authorities."

"Like it or not, those are the risks, prince Stolas. As my colleague had informed you before, it really is her only chance to gain admittance to heaven." The eldest death god remained calm and collected, silently musing at the young(er) man's reactions. An idea was quickly forming in the back of his head, which quickly grew a series of roots in all directions, to form a web of small ideas. He remembered something that the Undertaker told him recently – a wish or a dream of sort which the very slightly younger death god had kept at the corner of his complicated mind.

"Sir, is there really nothing farther that I can do? To help her 'pass on', so to speak?" Stolas hated it, and he really could not understand why, but he really felt that he had to help Matilda Simmons. The eldest death god looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin with a thumb and index finger.

"There is one thing …one way in which you can help her, but…" The old man trailed off.

"But?" Stolas offered, wanting someone to continue with the rest of the sentence.

"But, it will be extremely unpleasant." The Undertaker commented, interrupting the other great death god.

"Well, I really do not care. What do I have to do?" Stolas asked honestly. The two older death gods exchanged silent communications in between them, before the Undertaker shrugged and let the other man speak.

"That, you be present at the site when it is carried out."

"I have to watch her die, is that it?"

"Not just that." The death god said, shaking his head.

"Do I have to bring my son with me?" This was certainly becoming uncomfortable just to think about.

"Not only that." The older god repeated, and suddenly, Spears raised his head with realization.

"Sir …you are certainly not saying what I think you are saying." The look of rare horror on Spears's face scared Stolas more than anything else did. The two older death gods nodded in unison.

"Yes, we are."

"But… I have never heard of a demon going through it."

"There is always the first time for everything, Spears. Besides – " The older man paused to look at a rapidly paling Stolas. " I have a feeling that this one is – quite a special case, with quite a special 'soul'."

"Wait. Will you …could someone please enlighten me? I confess that I am getting scared." Stolas looked from one death god to another, hating himself for getting sweaty palms.

"As you should be, Stolas. You are going to be burned right alongside her." – The deceptively casual tone with which the great death god spoke pierced Stolas's heart deeper than anything else could.

"This body would not survive such a torture. On top of that, I currently have nowhere safe to go dormant like I usually would." Stolas commented, his mind reeling, and from nothing related to the blood loss his son was causing. …Although Spears had no fondness for the demon prince, he again came to the rescue.

"That is NOT exactly what we meant, and will you please stop cold-sweating? The smell is unpleasant to me." Spears shifted his eyeglasses and pinched his nose as if to stress his point. Stolas muttered an apology before he shifted away from the younger man, and dislodged his son's mouth gently. Spears sighed. "We do not mean for you to be physically tied up with her and be burned at the stake. Just in your mind and – indirectly – your soul. You don't burn 'away'. You will feel as though you are with her, and you can even talk to her. You will feel everything she is feeling, and go through the process of the burning as though it is happening to you, and that is the part where we are left wondering, because we do not have the precedence of a demon being put through this." Spears fell silent right then, sensing that his great superior had something to say.

"What we are hoping that you will do, is 'talk' with her, and hopefully, 'ask her' to focus only on the cleansing part of this process and not get caught up in dark thoughts. Remind her that you have her son, and that you will do everything you can to ensure his happiness."

The death god stopped right there after exchanging another look with the Undertaker. Spears did not miss the exchange and held his tongue. His superiors were obviously planning something, and that something was a tightly held secret that not even Spears could be included fully. He took a deep breath, and filed away the silent exchange in his memory for later use.

"Am I to understand that you want me to …sort of 'possess' her?" Stolas asked, still not liking the whole idea, but more than half of him was already resigned to it.

"You're catching on." The Undertaker commented.

"Then, when can I detach myself from her body and mind?" The prince's words sounded heavier.

"As soon as you succeed in negotiating with her."

"You mean, sending her off to heaven successfully." Stolas raised an eyebrow in question.

"That is the idea." The Undertaker nodded.

"And, should I fail…?" Stolas left the rest of the sentence hanging, letting whoever had the answer to finish it for him.

"…You will have her death on your conscience for eternity, as well as the experience of being burned alive." The Undertaker answered. This elicited a humorless laugh out of Stolas.

"…Do you realize that you are talking to a demon here?? We have no such thing as…" Stolas raised his voice, but bit off the rest of his words. It was out of discomfort more than offense, or annoyance. The Undertaker paused for a second before speaking.

"Yes, and I sure know of many, many demons who would come to a death god, requesting that certain humans be delivered to heaven. Yes, that happens a lot." The Undertaker's ironic words and mocking tone irritated Stolas.

"Oh, will you shut it?!" Stolas rolled his eyes.

"We will be taking you to the execution site directly through the portal of this shop." The Undertaker went on. "I hope you will forgive us for restraining you while we are out in the open."

"You are expecting me to run, while I am with my own child, after going through the experience of being burned alive, even though indirectly? Have you all lost your minds?? I wouldn't have such energy, especially when I am not even sure if I can succeed, or endure the experience. If I am going to run, I would do that before the burning. Not after." Stolas felt incredulous, although he planned on using the opportunity to reach Ciel.

_Execution Site_

_Town Square_

_Somewhere in Between Preston and London_

_6:55AM – Next Day_

It was the hottest topic – in more ways than one - around the town that a suspected and missing demon child's mother was going to be burned to death that afternoon. Already, the town square was surrounded by a crowd who talked anxiously and at the same time worriedly as officers came and went, patrolling the vicinity to prevent any possibilities of a riot happening around the town square.

Some news reporters were there, who whispered amongst themselves the likelihood of the officials being apprehended and possibly thrown in jail themselves, or at least lose their jobs, if this doing was learned by the Queen herself. However, as much as the reporters were concerned, no one in London or the Queen's aids, had the room in their already-overwhelmed schedules trying to get London back on track, that no one who was important cared enough to come stop the burning. It was a rumor at best as far as the government was concerned.

There was also a group of church goers and a group of nuns with bibles and crosses in their hands. The firewood had already been piled up neatly to cover the entire body of the condemned. Although it was widely believed that burnings were carried out with only knee-high pile of the firewood, the actual burnings were usually done behind a wall of firewood, as is this one.

Although in many cases, the limbs of the condemned would be damaged to ease the 'securing' process as well as the 'passing' by utilizing such measures as crushing the bones of major joints before tying them up to the stake, there was a debate about how this one was going to be carried out. England traditionally hanged the condemned for up to half an hour to weaken them in order to shorten their suffering. However, in this case, since she had already been starved and was given no water after a difficult labor, it was determined she was already weak enough to be executed without doing anything further.

As the condemned – Ms. Matilda Simmons – was brought to the site in shackles so that she could barely stand, the three death gods and a very pale demon prince leaped a very short distance away. The Undertaker and his superior held both of Stolas's arms in order to protect the prince, and to keep Stolas from running. Spears temporarily held the baby, secured to his torso with a makeshift baby carrier made from a bed sheet. Stolas had fed the baby beforehand, just to minimize the risk of the baby trying to bite anyone's body parts off in search of nourishment. Spears also kept an eye on the crowd, seeing that Matilda Simmons had arrived.

Stolas's mind was reeling, but he knew this was something that needed to be done. He felt in his heart that he deserved this. At least, he wouldn't be burning for real. Just when the officials began chaining her to the stake, and started reading the official death warrant, Stolas was bombarded by a series of images and voices, all belonging to Ciel and his loyal guards, and many of his troop members. The combined force of the telepathy nearly knocked him off of his feet.

There were commotions, screams, the sound of things breaking, and pounding. These sounds and images came attacking him from all sides, filling him with dark despair and anguish which he could find no way out of. It may have and something to do with the fact that he had a pair of very powerful death gods holding his arms, and therefore the usual telepathic channel was clearer. Another theory was that his troops – the demons he controlled – had set up the link for this emergency situation. For whatever the reason, he saw and heard them as clear as if these events were happening right in front of him.

Walls were being torn apart, armored troops rushing inside his palace, and the inevitable tearing and hacking of limbs among demons fighting the losing battle. There were dust smokes flying as things were set on fire and then were put out. Then, more heavily armored enemy troops rushed in, and began taking things out of the palace. All noise ceased at once, however, when there was an unmistakable sound of a creature slithering through the hallways, and someone ordered to 'cease fire'.

"The prince is nowhere in the palace, Your Highness." One of the enemy guards said as they all retreated. Then, a familiar voice belonging to one of Echidna's loyal guards came above all else.

"Find the maid, and get the location of that little runt he brought back."

All the tiny nerve-endings in Stolas's body tingled, and he felt his stomach knot with the implication of what was happening.

"CIEL!!" Stolas yelled, startling the death gods. "CIEL! Answer me!!"

"SEBASTIAN!?" Ciel's muffled voice answered, sounding more or less unharmed. Stolas released a sigh of relief. It was short-lived, however, when he saw what Ciel was holding in his hand, and his tear-streaked cheeks, and the words he spoke through the hoarse voice. "SEBASTIAN! DON'T COME BACK!! ABANDON US, PLEASE!!"

"W-What?!" Stolas felt weak-kneed. It felt as though someone had punched a hole in his torso, and left a gaping hole.

"YOU HAVE TO ABANDON US!! IT'S TOO LATE TO SAVE ANY OF THIS! …ANY OF US!! JUST DON'T COME BACK!!" Ciel was screaming, his voice a combination of all his fear, anger, and a fair amount of what Stolas could only describe as 'relief' to finally get in touch with him. Then, he heard one of his oldest raven messengers, his voice remaining business-like as always.

"My lord Stolas, if this human is telling you not to come for us, I second his opinion."

"Prince Stolas, come back to us!" Spears grabbed and shook Stolas's shoulders, now seeing that whatever had happened to 'Ciel' must be something terrible. Judging from the wide-as-saucers eyes of Stolas and his very rough breathing, the Undertaker also felt the need to sever the connection in between the distressed prince and the Earl. They needed his full focus on the here and now.

"Stolas! Come back NOW!" With that, the undertaker slapped the stunned prince on his right cheek, hard enough for the sound to be heard by all three death gods. Stolas gasped, stunned back to the world of humans. He managed to hold on to the communication channel, and realized he couldn't keep the channel open while performing this difficult task at the same time.

"I… I-I'll contact you again, soon. I need to finish something here."

"ABANDON US!" Ciel yelled from the side.

"No." Stolas answered firmly just before reluctantly severing the connection.

In front of them, Matilda Simmons was now strapped behind the tower of neatly-piled firewood. A guard was pouring oil on the firewood, although none on the actual condemned. Stolas took a deep breath, his mind racing to process the information, as well as to prepare himself for the fiery onslaught by searching out her soul, and her stream of thoughts among the thousands who gathered around the execution site.

It was easier to get her bound up, because she offered no resistance. She was barely conscious. However, this made it harder for Stolas to locate her 'mind'. When he finally did, it was a split second before the firewood was lit. Smoke from the burning wood began to rise. Stolas breathed deeply, then borrowed the powers the two death gods unknowingly offered, and delved deep inside Matilda Simmons's mind.

Immediately, the toxic smoke from the burning oil and wood assaulted his senses, making it doubly hard for him to concentrate. The heat from the blaze was also bad enough already that it made him – well, Matilda – sweat profusely and turn her face away in a desperate attempt to escape the heat.

'Matilda! …Ms. Simmons, please wake up!!' Stolas yelled into her mind. He finally roused her enough to speak after three tries. She immediately went into a coughing fit, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on her mind. Around the stake, the officials began talking hurriedly amongst themselves, for the fire was spreading much too fast. 'Too much oil was poured over the wood' was the most popular theory. Normally, it took nearly 2 hours for the condemned just to die, if the skills applied to the execution was flawless. However, this particular one seemed to be a whole lot shorter. An hour at the tops, was the best estimate. One of the officials argued that they were treading on a dangerous path as it was, and it was best to kill this one quickly and get it over with the cleaning.

"Where are you?!" Matilda asked aloud, which Stolas did not want her to do.

'Just listen to my voice! I am sending you my voice straight into your mind. Do you remember me?' Stolas asked, knowing that she could not see him. She kept coughing, but she was thinking, which was good. After a moment, she found his voice in her memory, and Stolas felt the mixture of a thousand emotions that rushed through her mind.

'YOU….!' She dropped her mind's voice a full octave, and Stolas winced.

'Yes, it is me. You know me as Sebastian Michaelis, but my real name, which my kind never divulges unless we are back in the Underworld, is Stolas. I am a prince of my own territory, and served the last Earl of Phantomhive under a Faustian Contract. I need you to listen to me CAREFULLY.' Stolas deliberately spoke slowly and clearly, because he sensed he had no time to repeat himself.

'L-Listen to you?! Who the hell do you …sorry.' Matilda apologized suddenly, which threw Stolas off.

'What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who needs to do the apologizing, and that is partly why I came.' …It was a split second later that he realized she was apologizing for using the word: hell in her thought. Stolas felt the corners of his mouth rising, but quickly pressed on with the rest of his business. 'I am here, with our son. We are out of sight, but I am here to inform you, that he is in my custody, and I have good helpers who will see to it that he will get the best of everything. I…'

'You have him?!' Matilda interrupted him, but it was clear that she was having trouble forming a long, constructive thought due to the rapidly approaching flame. Stolas battered his own instinct to flee the heat and fiercely kept himself in his position.

'Yes, I do! I have been feeding him, changing him, and everything, because I've done it all before! I do not have the time to discuss things further. I came to help you, and …AGH!!' Stolas couldn't help yelping as the flame finally caught the hem of Matilda's dress. She screamed for real, and it deafened Stoals's sense of hearing a little before he yelled into her head again. 'LISTEN! I NEED YOU TO FOCUS!!!'

Matilda kept screaming, however, and pulled desperately at the chains that tied her in place. They were secured firmly to the stake by a huge chain ring and a fat nail, so as not to let it burn away. Stolas couldn't hold back his own screams, feeling the skin blister and pop, then the flesh of her legs began to burn in honest, though the process was delayed due to the blood vessels bursting and blood began drenching the wooden stand she was forced to stand on.

This – of all the tortures and battles he had been subjected to in his very long life – took the trophy for being the most terrifying, painful way of putting someone to death. It was not just the flames themselves or the toxic smoke, but the heated, red-hot chains that secured her body to the stake had also began to eat through the clothes and the skin beneath, that added even more discomfort. It took every ounce of courage, self-discipline, and self-control for Stolas to remain with Matilda inside her mind.

'What is it you WANT?!' Matilda screamed her question, her actual voice having died out a long time ago from the heated smoke which caused her airway to swell up, and her vocal cords to blister. The flame was steadily climbing up her body through the dress she wore, and her torso was full of burns. She wanted Stolas – who was utterly failing to hold back his own screams by now – gone from her mind, and let her die. She felt death approach her already, and welcomed the drawing of curtains to her short, difficult life.

'AHHH!!! …I-I need you …to f-focus …on …HAPPIER …and-d …BRIGHTER t-thoughts!!' Stolas was pushing every word through his own fading consciousness, determined to at least finish telling her what he needed to say.

Stolas had a theory developing in his mind. For this buring - which should not have been allowed to take place at all - is the only chance to cleanse Matilda's soul; the very soul which Stolas himself tainted. As there really was no such thing as a 'coincidence' in the eyes of gods, demons, and their servants, it meant that there was someone who was 'very high-up' who WANTED this burning to happen, and INTENDED for Matilda to have this unique, one chance to gain admittance to heaven. ...And the very heavy burden of responsibility was being placed over his shoulders.

'WHAT?!' Both Matilda and Stolas sensed that her feet were already burned to the state where the bare bones were already exposed to the fire.

'I know, t-this is terrible!! It's …AHHH!!! ..I'm s-sorry for everything that …I d-did to you …and everything t-that I …didn't do!!' Stolas hated himself for stuttering, but he was already pushing his limits far more than he ever believed possible. The flesh on her upper thighs were now bleeding profusely, and they both felt her consciousness fading fast with the increasing blood loss and progressing suffocation.

'GET TO THE POINT!!!' She screamed her demand, partly to keep her mind off of her bleeding, burning legs and torso.

''I need you t-to let go of …A-AHH!!! …Of HATE, and, …and ANGER, and …all the DARK THOUGHTS, so that you can GO TO HEAVEN!!' Stolas hurriedly yelled over the noise of the wood burning, and the smell of burning flesh, both of which were nearly beyond registering to his own senses at this point.

'HEAVEN?!' Matilda sounded incredulous.

'YES!! I made the deal with …the gods. I'm a …demon, but I asked THEM to take you. This is your ONLY chance!' Stolas smelled her hair burning, and felt flame licking her face. They were out of time.

'I'M BURNING HERE, AND YOU WANT ME TO THINK OF HAPPINESS?! ARE YOU STUPID?!'

'TRUST ME!!! They're waiting for you!! This fire will cleanse y-your soul …enough to let you go to them!! I BEG YOU, MATILDA, PLEASE!! Focus on WHAT WAS GOOD!!!'

Stolas screamed the last few words, but Matilda could no longer form a coherent response. He thought he felt her nod, and thought he saw the first of many cinematic reels flow out of her before all turned black.

The Undertaker and the great death god caught Stolas just as his eyes rolled back and his legs gave way. Beside them, Spears caught the cinematic reels flowing from the burning body atop the platform, and was busy analyzing the content. Now that a lot of wood turned crisp charcoal, the top of her burning head was now visible. The Undertaker grimaced as he saw her head detach from her torso and dropped down into the flaming pile of wood, then kept burning.

"That baby's amazing. He's still not crying." The Undertaker commented as he kept massaging the unconscious prince's chest, just where the overworked heart was beating with an irregular rhythm. The Undertaker was trying to use his spell to regulate the heart rate, but it did not seem to be working. "Oh, this is NOT good." He muttered as he unbuttoned the top three buttons of the prince's shirt to reach the heart better. "Why do you always have to try so damn hard?" The Undertaker muttered, and began massaging the heart with both hands. He tried not to look too closely at the unconscious demon's face. He truly had never seen tear-streaked cheeks on a demon's face before.

Next to him, his superior and Spears were both busy analyzing the end of the short cinematic reels. Spears was the first to breathe a sigh of relief, and took out the evaluation card from the breast pocket of his jacket to press the official seal of completion. His superior then uttered a few words, and turned his gaze skyward. He smiled faintly as the crowds moved and a gap was opened directly above them. He watched as the angels, who were obviously on stand-by, came down.

"Our work is now complete. This one definitely fits your standards." He said as he let the glowing, bluish-white sphere go and watched the angel nod. The angel spared a glance toward the unconscious demon prince, but left without saying a word to the death gods. Both the angel and the soul were gone in a matter of seconds, disappearing through the thin layer of clouds.

Spears finally turned back to Stolas, who was still down.

"Sir, please go get some water. Maybe it will shock his system enough to regulate itself." Spears asked the Undertaker, and gently placed the baby on the ground next to its father before taking over the heart massage. He felt a little easier to find that the heart was beating strongly, and the breathing was also nearly back to normal.

The great death god took a quick look at the demon prince, but returned his gaze to the execution site, where what remained of Matilda Simmons's body finally fell off of the platform in a fiery heap after the knees detached themselves from the thighs, and landed upon the still-burning pile of wood with a 'thud', causing a cloud of smoke and tiny fiery sparks to shoot up into the air. The remaining torso continued to burn.

Spears stopped the massaging motionon Stolas's chest, but kept a hand upon Stolas's forehead and turned his gaze skyward to look at the spot where the angels disappeared. All around them, there were commotions as the fiery sparks scared away a group of spectators. It alarmed him when he saw some of them flock their way. He was just about to rise to his feet when he heard the prince move.

Spears's focus was off of the previously-unconscious demon for just a few seconds. However, those few seconds were all that Stolas needed to make a dash for it – with the baby.

"SIR, he's gone!" Spears called out to his superiors, and bolted to his feet to give chase. …Few seconds too late.

_En Route Phantomhive Townhouse_

_City of London, England_

Stolas sped through the vast, still-recovering city of London at his top speed, which meant that no one could really feel much of anything other than a strong breeze suddenly caressing their bodies. He had no idea why, but for some reason, while he was still passed out on the lawn, the pains in his chest and what felt like a massive weight which prevented him from breathing normally, suddenly lifted. Enough to make him regain consciousness and with a single thought echoing in his mind: 'GET BACK ON YOUR FEET, AND RUN'.

He was thankful that the slight weight wrapped in his black butler jacket and currently resting in his arms had not wailed nor moved. The baby was eerily calm and collected, as if he knew his father needed him to be absolutely quiet.

However, no matter how slight the baby's weight actually was, and no matter how much adrenaline fueled him, after having to run through three cities at top speed and without a break, he was actually at near-breaking point. He finally slowed down, gasping for air, at the point underneath a bridge over the Themes River and sat down. After he was calm enough, he opened the telepathic channel to communicate. He first tried to reach the guard who was with Ciel, then got through to him on the fourth try. It seemed Ciel was out cold, mostly from acute stress. He could hear the faint sound of feet running in the background, but nothing much. It looked as though they did not get into Ciel's room.

"…What happened to you?!" Stolas asked, now in his native language, dropping his voice in order not to be heard by the passersby.

"My wings were severed, then they broke one of my legs. My partner lost his life when they cut off his head. Your human was most helpful in keeping me alive." Stolas felt queasy, knowing his guard was now in the same boat as him. Only, Stolas could still fly if he turned himself into a raven, while his guard cannot.

"I am sorry that I am not there to heal you." Stolas was at least glad Ciel had someone to keep company.

"What is happening to you right now? Why can't I save any of you?"

"Lady Echidna's clan has flooded our territories, my lord. They're destroying everything they can, and setting things on fire. They mean to demoralize this palace, along with us. My lord, we are severely out-numbered. Even if you had been here, in person, to negotiate a deal with her or to fight her yourself, there is very little chance of us winning."

"Why are you there, in Ciel's room in the first place?"

"Lady Echidna leaped us directly into this room. She does not know the location of this room, but she sensed its existence, and she was able to break whatever the invisible barriers you put up. I do not speak this human's language, and I have not been able to communicate with you up until now."

"I …am held in protective custody. I cannot communicate anything while I am indoors. I do not have much time, but I got away long enough to …make a delivery." Stolas kept his words deliberately vague. In the background, he heard – then felt – Ciel stir. The boy was immediately angry that his 'Sebastian' was still bothering with a lost cause, despite his earlier warning.

"Sebastian!! I have no idea what you are saying, but I am telling you, that you cannot come back here. You have no one on your side to protect you, and they do mean to kill you this time." Ciel interrupted, sounding a lot calmer now.

"Ciel, I am so very sorry. …I know you had been calling out to me for a long time before I got through to you. This is truly the very first time I could get out, and get away. Let me figure something out. Should the room be discovered and invaded, try to escape, and remember just one thing: trust 'the maid'. Did you get that? Trust 'the maid'. She will protect you." Stolas listened closely, and heard a faint 'Yes' from the other side.

Stolas then switched back to his native language and issued the same instruction to the downed guard. He truly hated that he could not be at the scene, but since both Ciel and his surviving guard were both advising him to stay away, he had to take their advise – at least until he was sure he could get his son to safety.

He had actually thought about scouting for another portal site back to Hell, just so that he could leap right back into his palace and see what was really going on down there. However, he had to take his own son's life first in order to bring the baby back safely with him. Although that had been the original plan, after he heard the Undertaker's explanations and reports, he had to admit that he needed to squash that plan in order to keep the game moving in the correct direction. 'If only I had Ciel with me…' Stolas mumbled to himself as he sped toward his destination.

The prince also knew that there was a whole lot of things that the Undertaker had not yet explained to him. – Whether or not that was for the retired death god's own reasons was beyond him. He also had no way of proving that this was indeed the correct decision: a high-risk, high-return gamble.

Stolas slowed down as he saw the Phantomhive Townhouse up ahead, seeing that the front gate was wide open, and a long row of people was stretched around the place. Bewildered, he was forced to go round the back, but was astonished to see that the townhouse was completely surrounded by people. He finally came to a complete stop, and looked for the opportunity to see what was going on. He saw that the people who came out of the house had bags filled with something. He eventually was stopped by one of the people, an old lady who had exited the building, her arms weighted by cloth bags just like everyone else.

"What are you doing, standing here? You'd better get in line. You look exhausted already, and I see that you came through some heavy smoke." With that, the old lady – who looked thoroughly exhausted herself, smiled and handed Stolas a jar of fresh water. Her eyes showed a mixture of concern, pity, and excitement when she recognized his son. Stolas could feel that she was sincerely concerned for him and the baby he carried.

Not wanting her to be bitten or notice the baby's fangs, Stolas quickly hid the baby, then accepted the water with the most charming smile he could master at that particular moment, and downed the content in a matter of seconds.

"May I ask what is happening here?" The prince asked the old lady, who looked toward the long line of people who are patiently waiting in a queue. She smiled tiredly.

"Some prince from India and his butler have been helping us in there, all this time since the fire. He was handing out a bunch of curry bread – you know, the ones that were in the papers for winning some kind of award from the Queen. He now hands out jags of clean water, some bread, baked potatoes, sugar cubes, and corn. What a good man."

Now, it was Stolas's turn to be shocked. 'So, prince Soma has been busy doing charity work and using Ciel's mansion to do it.' He chuckled to himself. Remembering the selfish, childish prince Soma and the fiercely loyal butler, Agni, he had to admit he was growing rather fond of them. '…It must have been Agni's idea to cook and hand out my invention.' Stolas thought to himself and smiled, imagining the tall man frying a bunch of curry bread.

Stolas then decided to turn away, at least for now.

"Well, thank you so much for kindly sharing your precious water with me. Please take care." Stolas said to the old lady, and was out of her sight before the lady could stop him.

The water had given him some refreshment, although he now had to use what previous energy he had regained in order to leap into the townhouse instantaneously. He had been trying to avoid doing this in order to keep the baby - as well as himself - safe. Stolas quickly hid himself atop a nearby tree, before making sure that nobody had seen him jump up into the tree branches and leaping. He ended up landing in the guest bathroom. His nostrils were immediately assaulted by the lingering sent of Agni's incense, and figured this room was actually the able butler's own private bedroom now. He closed his eyes to scan the building, and found what he believed to be Soma's 'aura' from the main lobby.

Stolas detected Agni's presence as the tall man moved about in the townhouse. He quickly found a chair to sit in, before he rolled up his sleeve and exposed the protruding vein on his forearm. The baby stirred as soon as Stolas gingerly uncovered the baby's tiny head, and brought his forearm to his son's mouth.

The baby instantly responded, now sensing that no immediate danger was forthcoming. The baby bit deeply into his father's flesh, making the father groan in honest. He would have liked to take a shower first, since it had been a tiring day and he felt smoke from Matilda's execution still lingering on his clothes and in his hair. It shocked him that all the running he had done was still not enough to erase all trace of the smoke, and the horrible stench of burning human flesh. He had been quite used to the smell, of course. However, there was something nauseating about that particular burning.

These thoughts ran through his head while watching the baby drink his blood. He knew he should have stopped along the way to feed the baby from time to time, but he couldn't shake the fear that the Death Gods would catch up to him, and that fear had kept him running.

There was another reason why he could not use the 'leaping' technique too much. Since he had ran away from his protectors, they were bound to be scanning for his telepathic waves in order to detect his location. They would not find him so easily, if he ran on foot.

He also needed his mind kept open for any contact from Ciel. From the last contact he had with the boy, he could sense his agitation and fear, and a great possibility still remained that his enemies had his guards caught, rounded-up, tortured, overpowered, and forced them to talk about the existence of the secret room in the basement. Stolas was now enraged that the death gods only regarded Stolas himself as worth saving, and never let him go back to retrieve Ciel, his top guards, his best warriors, 'the maid', and his other 2 humans.

Stolas realized he had gone too far with the feeding only when he felt light-headed, and his ears began to ring. He muttered another curse, feeling cold sweat break over his skin. He had no idea how much he had given to the baby boy, but the baby never complained when his father dislodged the sharp fangs and healed the wound quickly.

The last time he felt this weak was when Ciel had accidentally shot two bullets into his head right after having a terrible nightmare. He should have realized, though, that the shock from possessing Matilda during the burning, in addition to all the running he had done, plus all the stress from prolonged confinement, on top of the two large amount of feedings for the baby – all drained him of far too much energy. At this rate, he himself would be needing another feeding, which he had absolutely no time for.

These were all avoidable losses, if only he had been careful enough. It almost felt easier to fight a dozen demons in the Underworld than having to find yourself locked up in that 'bubble' of a Undertaker's shop, and doing all that he had been doing.

Remembering the medical text book, Stolas carefully laid the baby on the floor, then stretched himself out on the immaculately clean tiled floor, and put his feet up on the chair to let the remaining blood run to his aching head. He breathed deeply, feeling weak and his vision going blurry. He closed his eyes to stop the various colors of light that danced in front of his eyes.

He remembered how Ciel shook in his arms when he bled excessively. The boy had been fortunate enough to have Stolas at his side to take care of him. However, Stolas himself currently had no one – other than the kind Indian prince and his butler – who were Stolas's only 'safe' choice to even start thinking about this whole ordeal.

After he felt okay enough, he tap-tapped the baby's back to burp him, then lay back down on the white tiles and closed his eyes, listening to the baby as he happily settled down for a nap. Stolas swore he only closed his eyes for a moment, but somehow when he reopened them, he found himself face to face with Agni.

"Sir Sebastian!!" The Indian butler called to him, and lifted his body off of the floor carefully. Startled to find himself in this position, he bolted upright. It was a moment later that he realized the baby was no longer in his arms.

"Where…?! Where's the baby?!" Stolas frantically looked around, and realized Agni had the baby in his arms. Stolas breathed a sigh of relief before cautioning the kind butler. "Agni, please do not get too close to the baby until I finish telling you about him. He is full right now, but when he is hungry, he will bite you." Stolas saw Agni furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"Sir Sebastian? What do you mean? He seems to be a newborn." Agni seemed genuinely confused. Stolas nodded to confirm that the baby is indeed a newborn, but offered no further response until he sat up.

"May I ask you to call prince Soma in here, please? I need to …talk to you, both, about absolutely everything I am at liberty to discuss. These are matters of great importance, and they cannot wait. I have already lost too much time." Stolas said without answering the concerned butler's previous question.

Agni was quiet for a long moment, before nodding with that signature smile of his. Stolas wondered if he would ever see that particular smile again, for it is most likely that the man would try to kill him the moment he realized what his master's 'best friend' had been.

Another thought that occupied Stolas's mind, was if he was to end up dead soon, dying by Agni's hand would not be such a horrible way to go. – If only the baby could be kept safe in exchange for his life, he was wiling to seriously consider it, although that meant leaving CIel, his other humans, his 'slaves', and the demons he controlled – at the mercy of their captors.

Stolas was again 'spaced out' until he was brought back to reality by the sounds of excited foot steps, and by his baby's hand which reached for the buttons on his halter vest. He stood on his fet, grimacing as his legs screamed from having been kept up on the chair for long.

"SEBASTIAN?!" The familiar sound of the Indian prince's voice came jumping at him, and he instantly prepared himself for a bear hug, which he actually did receive, although a bit shorter one than he expected. Stolas offered his hand to shake.

"Good to see you, prince Soma." Stolas greeted. Agni again furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was used to seeing the man bow with a level of respect which someone of Soma's status deserved. The Indian prince shook the offered hand nonetheless.

"May we all sit down, so that we can talk?" Stolas began, keeping the baby with him as he motioned for the two confused Indians to be seated. Startled, they both followed his request. Stolas took a deep breath, and began.

"First of all, I need to re-introduce myself to you. I am not Sebastian Michaelis any longer. It is also customary for my kind to keep our true names hidden, for fear of having it used to destroy us."

As predicted, both Soma and Agni's faces wore the same expression of shock and disbelief.

"I …" Stolas paused and organized his thoughts before starting again. "I am not human."

"HUH?!" Soma asked, too shocked now to keep silent, but not knowing how to continue. Stolas sighed. Agni jumped at the chance to question him.

"What do you mean, you are not human?! …Well, you are almost always perfect at everything you do, but…"

"I am what your kind should be fighting against, Agni. I am what your Goddess Kali fought against, although I am completely different in almost every aspect." Stolas tried to give them hints, for he himself did not want to reveal too much.

"…Impossible." Agni muttered, his now-serious gaze trying to search out Stolas's true intensions. Stolas sighed again. Next to the butler, Soma was silent.

"But, I am what I am. I am a demon."

"But...!! But, that means ...CIEL...?!" Soma was 'getting there' faster than Agni was.

"Ciel and I had a contract. In exchange for his soul, I was to help him avenge his parents' death, and to protect him at all costs until that goal was met. …It did, so I claimed my prize, and returned home."

"YOU…!! So, you …!? Are you saying that you …killed my best friend?!" Soma's eyes flashed with that fire Stolas was very familiar with.

"Yes, that is exactly correct."

Soma bolted out of his seat and dashed toward him in a rush. Agni finally startled out of his shock, and moved to stop the prince before the boy touched Stolas: the ultimate enemy.

"Prince Soma! NO!" Agni yelled as he hugged the prince from behind and stopped him.

"WHY?! WHY DID YOU KILL CIEL?!" The prince was quickly getting out of control. Stolas watched silently, backing off a step to keep the flailing prince away from the baby he held.

"It was in accordance with his wish to belong to me. Honestly."

"But… But, you were his butler!! You cared for him every day…!"

"Yes, I did. It even seems that I love him. However, I am no longer his butler. I am his rightful keeper, and I am …although vastly different in all aspects from you, a prince myself. Ciel resides in my own palace right now, where I fully intend to return at least one more time." Stolas kept himself from erabolating on the current events inside the said palace, deciding that telling Soma about any of it wouldn't help him.

"You took his soul, and did not …consume him?" Agni was fast-catching up with Soma on this subject. Being a priest's son, this was his familiar territory. Stolas nodded.

"I actually did consume it, though only partially. I …had lost an arm during our final battle, and I needed to have it grown back before anyone in Hell noticed."

"That still does not change the fact that you murdered my best friend!" Soma retorted, then turned to Agni, who was still holding him. Recognizing that particular expression on the Indian prince, Stolas knew exactly what was coming next. He moved swifly to have their attention back to him, before the order to have Stolas either downed or killed was issued.

"I came here to make a request, which only you can help us with." Stolas motioned for the baby, who was still keeping himself quiet in his arms.

"That baby..?" Soma let hiis question hanging in the air, trying to connect the dots. Stolas nodded.

"...Is mine, yes. The mother was a human, and is now dead. Hopefully, she has managed to get to Heaven. …Since I am being forced to submit myself into protective custody, there will be no one to care for him."

"…A crossbreed child?" Agni asked for confirmation. Stolas nodded.

"Yes. I cannot take him down to Hel, for I am being hunted."

"Hunted??" Both Agni and Soma's expressions sobered up at the word.

"By my fellow demons, who want me dead for …having loved a human being, and for …my being nominated to take 'the throne' that is currently vacant due to my father's absence."

"…Having loved …a human??" Agni was trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"Yes, and they do mean Ciel" Stolas clarified.

"…Oh." Soma sighed, remembering Stolas's earlier words.

"But, you are still a demon." Agni persisted.

"Yes, I am." Stolas nodded. In that moment, he saw Agni's eyes flash a familiar, dangerous shade and his 'God's Right Hand' slowly emit a purplish glow.

"Then, I cannot let you leave, nor harm my prince."

"Keep the baby safe for me. I will send for the feeding arrangement as soon as possible." Stolas explained quickly, before Agni lost himself to Samadhi-state.

"Do you realize what you are asking of us?!" Agni was furious. Stolas nodded.

"Yes, I do. That is why I have come here. Your faith in your religion gave me the idea."

"Goddess Kali is nothing like you." Agni growled dangerously, his right hand still glowing. Stolas quickly suppressed a humorless laugh from escaping his lips, and decided to explain himself, instead.

"Of course, I am not! But, she was once regarded by my kind as if she was one of us. Do you know how she became the way she was? I looked it up after returning to my own land, and my researches told me that the demon whom she fought against and eventually killed had a vicious streak in his bloodline. His strength was that he could reportedly recreate himself from just one drop of his blood. Which meant that your Kali could not just keep hacking him to pieces, because that would have led to the demon creating an army of himself and the bloodshed truly would not end. So, you know what she did?" Stolas asked, and Agni tilted his head in deep thought.

"…I heard that she drank every drop of the demon's blood. …But…" Agni kept thinking.

"Yes, you are correct. That drove her to madness, until her husband stopped her. Are you getting the hint of what I am trying to accomplish here?"

"…Not really."

"It was the demon's blood that drove her to massacre. However, not every single one of us is like that. Are you aware of the 'Lesser Keys of Solomon'? As in 'Solomon's 72 demons'??"

"Not much at length, but I did hear about it." Agni was working hard now to remember his studies. Stolas nodded again.

"Good. I am one of them, and so was my father Asmodeus." Stolas explained, and saw both Soma's and Agni's eyes become as round as saucers.

"We the demons have not only preyed on humans, but we also worked and co-existed with humans, and both sides exploited each other throughout the history of human race. There are actually some of us that humans are rather fond of. Uphier would be one of them, because Lord Uphier possesses great knowledge about medicine. I am only good with the spells, herbs, and precious stones, so I have a great deal of respect for him. He gets summoned often by humans for his medical knowledge.

"The other one is the Phoenix. His songs breaks human hearts and often kills those who heard him sing. Yet, many humans throughout the history of civilization hailed him as a symbol for their undying …whatever it is they are pledging at the time. He also is one of us, the '72 demons' of king Solomon, for he can also turn into a human form and he is just one rank below me. You also should know, that although she is not a part of the Solomon's demons, my mother Lady Echidna is also the mother of Sphinx – the one the Egyptians built the for, next to the pyramids. Therefore, obviously, she is one of the most highly recognizable demons.

"Another of my mother's offspring is my half-brother, Cerberus. He is a three-headed demon dog who loves beautiful music. He loves my violin, and I get summoned by his closest guards and by my mother whenever Cerberus is having a 'bad day', so I can make him sleep." Stolas paused, although Soma was looking increasingly curious, which rather amused Stolas.

"So, are you saying that not all demons are necessarily evil?! That is not possible!" Agni was still angry, and rightfully so. Stolas quickly clarified the matter for the priest's son.

"That is NOT what I was getting at. The original reason for why we are in Hell is because we are the epitomes of sins, but we are each loyal to our own desire and instinct. Not all of us are the way your Goddess once was. Even when we are being exploited by humans, we cherish it, because if we get to do what we love to do, and in turn lead humans or guide humans in a way that automatically make them sinners and drive them to actually commit sins, we get their souls as payment. We are also happy, because we are being entertained. Boredom is what we hate the most."

"I am not sure if I should feel disgusted, or be enraged by your words." Agni said, glaring at Stolas.

"We were created out of our hatred for humans, because Lord Lucifer did not agree with God's instructions to guide humans to their salvation, and to make humans choose the right way to rule and lead themselves. Lord Lucifer thought the task was far too beneath him. That was why he turned against God along with a group of angels who sided with him, and a great war began. Our lords lost the war, and became fallen angels." Stolas lectured the two Indians, who were now paying full attention to his storytelling.

"I must also mention my father, Great Lord Asmodeus. He was also exiled from his great kingdom – a throne I was supposed to inherit – when he fell in love with a human female named Sarah. He had been living with the woman for some time, but he was eventually caught and punished. Even now, he is still in Egypt for who knows how long. One thing is for sure, though. …I am my father's son. The very last one alive who is a direct descendant. Because neither Sphinx or Cerberus was sired by my father, and besides, Sphinx is a female and my father did not desire her as his successor.

"Both my father and myself have committed the same crime of loving a human. Although, I have not picked Ciel as a mate, but rather as a confidante. Ciel possesses the level of intelligence, and strength of will that I have very rarely come across."

Stolas paused, actually feeling his chest tighten with what he now identified as 'longing'. He would have given A LOT right now, just to hold the precious boy in his arms, or simply to confide in him. He shook his head to clear it, then looked down at his child, who was awake and eerily quiet, as if he was listening to his father talk, as well. Stolas smiled indulgently, wondering whether he would get another chance of telling his family history to his son again. ...Well, he had to count on Agni and Soma for that, if his son ever forgets it.

"So …you were trying to save the baby, because he is the only heir?" Soma chimed in.

"Actually, that is not the only reason. The mother …knew what I was the day she …mated with me, but carried him to full-term through all the hardship a single, unwedded and pregnant woman endures in this time and age. My original plans were to bring him back to my palace for Ciel to take care of, because I did not want anyone to discover him. However, after enlisting the Undertaker's help with this matter, it seems that I should keep him here, alive and safe."

"Wait a second!" Soma jumped into the conversation. "What do you mean, keep him alive? Were you …? I mean, were you going to murder YOUR OWN CHILD?! You cannot do that!! That is the most UNFORGIVABLE CRIME!!" Soma screamed at Stolas, who remained calm.

"For him to reside in Hell, he needs to be dead, so that I can take his soul with me and keep it safe, like I did with Ciel. However, that is precisely what I decided NOT to do, which is why I am here, asking for your assistance in person." Stolas emphasized the 'in person' part. Agni was quiet, but the look of anger never left his beautiful face.

"What do you feed him?" The priest's son asked suddenly.

"Blood." Stolas answered bluntly. Soma paled next to his butler.

"B-BLOOD?!" Soma stuttered. Stolas nodded.

"Yes. Until he can consume some flesh."

"Whose blood?!"

"For the first few weeks to a month, it is ideal to have its parents' blood. After he builds up enough resistance, upgrade to other demons' blood. Then, after that, he can start eating raw, soft meat." Stolas spoke as he gazed down at his son, whose eyes were opened but remaining calm.

"…That was why you were down on the floor earlier, wasn't it?" Agni, the ever-observant priest's son, asked and Stolas nodded to confirm it.

"Yes, that is exactly so. But, also because I just ran through three cities, on foot, without a break."

"Why?? …And, if I may ask, you carry the distinct smell which I am used to smelling in India, along the River Ganges."

"That is because I came from an execution site. …Of the baby's mother." Stolas spoke honestly. The two Indians now bore the same expression of shock at the realization.

"You …burned the woman?!"

"Not me. I did consent to the burning, but only because I was told by the death gods that it was the only way to cleanse her soul enough to send her to Heaven. That was her only chance." Stolas shook his head, dropping his gaze downward again to look at the baby in his arms.

"Wait a moment. Cremating a body is merely in order completely separate the body from the soul. It does have a cleansing power, but why would that be the only way?" Agni asked Stolas, who paused to organize his response.

"She mated with a demon, so her soul was tainted the very moment that she did."

"You said earlier that this woman knew what you were the day that you two …mated. But, did she know what you were before you two actually mated?" Agni asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Stolas was impressed with the sharpness of this priest's son, and shook his head honestly.

"No. I seduced her into giving me a piece of information about a cult group which Ciel was investigating – on Queen's orders." Stolas put an emphasis on the 'Queen's orders' part. Agni's eyes flashed in anger, while Soma's expression darkened.

"I really hate to say this, but what you are saying is… That, she had no idea what you were and you were not going to tell her any of it, if she did not find it out herself. Is that it?" Soma was becoming an increasingly good guesser. When Stolas nodded, the prince continued. "You knew the consequences, and you never felt any remorse?!" Now, Soma was angry, although this response was very much within Stolas's initial assumption. Stolas moved to enlighten the prince.

"We the demons generally do not possess such emotions as guilt, affection, remorse, nor love as in romantic love. We have other emotions that substitute such emotions."

"THAT IS NOT WHAT I ASKED YOU!!" Soma shouted, momentarily stunning Stolas, who immediately recognized the question for what it really was. If Agni was observant, Soma was getting very good at sensing people who were making excuses to get away.

"If it is not enough of an answer, then please allow me to repeat myself. I am being hunted down by other demons, precisely for loving a human. I do possess theses 'remorse', 'love', and 'guilt' and such, but I never really acknowledged them as what they were, because I am a demon. Frankly speaking, I cannot figure out why I possess these emotions. But the point is that the mother is dead. The father is being hunted. This child has committed no crime whatsoever aside from biting a finger belonging to a careless human, and for being born. Another big reason is that, it is extremely rare - to the point of being nearly unheard of - to achieve a successful conception of demon-human crossbreed offspring. Many demons, throughout history, have mated with humans without ever having a child. I do admit that I was very careless, but I had my reasons. However, now that I actually DO have my son in my arms, I honestly cannot say that I am unhappy to have had this child.

"Your religion is one of the most accommodating and forgiving one for us, and for this child because your goddess was once evil, but for what started out as a noble reason. Agni, you are a priest's son. Soma, you are a pure-hearted prince who has a wonderful servant and a vast amount of resources. I will make sure that I will repay you for your kindness if I survive, and I do keep my word."

Stolas paused to take a breath, and for letting the two would-be saviors in front of him and his son to digest his words. Agni was gritting his teeth, while Soma kept staring at the baby in Stolas's arms with an anguished expression.

"A demon's word is worthless!" Agni practically growled his response.

Stolas guessed the man was having an incredibly difficult time suppressing his rage for having been deceived by Ciel and Stolas, then discovering that 'Sebastian Michaelis' was in fact a demon prince who wouldn't reveal his real name to them. Stolas, however, had no choice in this matter. He was already risking enough just by coming here, and talking about himself to these two people.

"Is that what you were taught?" Stolas challenged.

"Seducing humans with the sweetest of words and promises… That is the most common method used by the demons to prey on us humans." The anger on Agni's expression never abated. Stolas gave him a moment before continuing.

"Exactly. However, in this case, my intensions are pure. And I never lie."

"A demon who doesn't lie?!" Agni released a humorless laughter.

"Actually, there are quite a few of us who never do." Stolas refused to lose his own calm.

"How do I know that any of what you are telling us is true?!" Agni challenged.

"Would you like a demonstration?" Stolas mocked, a smirk appearing on his tired face. Agni looked alarmed, his right hand at the ready. Stolas quickly moved to clarify the situation. "I promise, I will not harm either of you." With that, he closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath before opening his eyes. – His demonic, glowing pink eyes, with the slit-shaped pupils, slowly.

To Soma and Agni, the room slowly turned dark, and a sound that was suspiciously like leaves falling began to echo throughout of the room. Then, they saw that the sound came from falling feathers – so many of them, which quickly began to pile up on the floor.

"There really is no such thing as forgiveness in a demon's language, and I do not possess it either. However, I do have a vast capacity for patience, which Ciel demanded a lot of. I am what I am, and I do loathe it every moment of my eternal life. However, this child I had with the human female is a child that will never be accepted by any of the world existing in this universe. Hell won't take him, for humans mean little more than food to us, and will regard him as worthless. Heaven will never take him, because he is a spawn of a demon. The humans will most likely never take a child who would feed on human blood.

"This is why I am going to arrange for an alternative, so that he can be fed, raised with love and attention, and with proper education. Demons possess powers, skills, and intelligence that are far above those of humans. With proper parenting, he can be of great use to you."

Stolas finished his speech, and took a moment to regain his breath and again letting the two would-be saviors from Bengal digest his words. He most hated the fact that this baby could possess a linguistic ability like his father, and was processing the languages and mental signals he had been using in his presence. It frustrated him, though, that he could not remember anything about his youth, for if he had, he could have used the memories to guide him on proper 'demon' parenting. All he had been doing was to treat his son just as he would any other human baby, except for the feeding details.

The two Indians were both quiet for a long moment, each for different reasons. As much as Soma was shocked that Ciel would hide something of this magnitude from him, and to Agni both, there was an unmistakable look of 'pleading' in the demon's eyes. To this man – a prince, as it turned out – Soma really was 'the last fort'. As much as he loathed this demon for lying and deceiving him all these years, his intensions were actually pure. As for the child, there really was nothing remotely malicious or evil about it. He really, really could not believe that he himself was going to do this, but he felt a corner of his mind tug, and knew that he will always regret it, if he did not at the very least try to do his best in saving the child. 'Besides,' Soma thought, 'no normal demon would think to save this child.'

Next to Soma, though, Agni was quietly contemplating what would be the most appropriate, and 'merciful' for the lack of a better expression, action to take. He hated this, but knew in his heart that, in the end, this would be the best thing to do. He waited for his prince to respond, and was not at all surprised to see Soma finally nod his acceptance.

"All right, Seba… I mean, what is your name, anyway?"

"As I have mentioned before, I will not say my real name to you. Sebastian Michaelis was a French Inquisitor who wrote a very famous book on us demons. That is why Ciel settled for it. Sebastian was also the name of his pet dog which tried to protect his master, and was killed by the same people who took him away and killed his parents and burned the manor down."

Stolas paused, letting his words sink in. He was more relieved than anything else, however, to have Soma's guarantee to provide his son with shelter and safe haven. In front of him, his two new 'best friends' were wearing the most shocked expression. Stolas moved to explain the matter.

"You should know this about Ciel Phantomhive, though. …He turned his back on God, because God did not see it fit to save him. He was a sacrifice that had been offered to me upon an altar. I was summoned by him, but the summoning spell and the ceremony itself were given by the cult group which enslaved Ciel and committed repeated counts of rape, violence, and other methods of sexual assaults on him for an entire month. God did not answer his prayers or begging. So, I did, instead."

Stolas paused again, pleased to discover that he had their full and undivided attention this time. He closed his eyes for a long moment to organize his thoughts, and contemplated just how much details into the late earl's life would be appropriate to mention. He decided to test his waters.

"…Do you see why he chose me over God? He used to be a laughing, happy, and beautiful kid. He still is beautiful, but he never once smiles. Not in happiness, at least. I …know that he seems rather harsh and as unforgiving as a …devil himself, but that is a mask he puts up to make himself forget his former self. To sever himself completely from the life he would never be able to take back." Stolas became aware of this after spending a year or so with the late earl of Phantomhive. He had his confirmation when he actually tasted and took his exquisite and perfectly broken soul. Stolas – who was Sebastian at that time, and forever so in the earl's presence – was astonished to taste that part of him, and that is precisely the part which he stopped himself from consuming.

"Do you know of the very reason for which the Phantomhives came into existence? The whole family was, throughout the centuries, an organization in itself formed solely to carry out the darkest of deeds for the Queens and the Kings of England. They were most revered back in the late1300's when Henry V ruled England, as well as during Queen Elizabeth I's reign in latter half of 1500's."

Soma was shocked, and Agni seemed bewildered.

"Do you …are you saying that the entire family was a bunch of killers hired by the Royal Family of England?!" Soma raised his voice. Stolas sighed, seeing that this prince still had some maturing to do before jumping into conclusions.

"The wealth of this noble family came directly from the Queen, and from whatever else they did in order to enrich their lives. Most of the compensations came directly from the Queen, with the Head of the Scotland Yard acting as the mediator. I do not know who did the fund delivery before the Scotland Yard came into existence. However, you should know that the jobs of the Phantomhives included any and all efforts to 'smooth out the wrinkles', should I say, of all sorts including diplomatic, legal, and financial matters. Therefore, it is not appropriate to refer to them as 'a bunch of killers' as you have just described them."

Stolas remained calm and corrected, silently telling Soma to 'behave'. Soma blushed, getting the unspoken message. Stolas paused to see if either had any questions or comments, before nodding and moved on to explain further.

"That was the life and sins which this family was burdened with, and that is why Ciel carried out his duties the way he did. Ciel is a child, but one with the level of intelligence that rivaled the best of generals. What he did not have, however, was an army. Vincent Phantomhive had a small army of close contacts at his disposal, but none of them came to help little Ciel when he lost his father. That is why Ciel created one of his own, although they did not really offer help when one of them – Lau – betrayed us and left the country, only to be pursued and was …dispatched."

Stolas paused when he heard Soma and Agni gasp, and realized these two must not have been aware of Lau's untimely demise. Stolas was rather surprised that Ciel did not inform these two about Lau's death, because they were acquaintances since the Curry Festival incident.

"…I must also mention that Lau was not just a trader, but was a very powerful member of a Chinese mafia. Ciel knew this from the beginning, and used him as a source of information, and as a pawn to keep an eye on the traffic within the East End area. His death was also based on the death warrant issued by the Queen. It was not, by any way, Ciel's own doing. Although, you should know that he was very merciless against any and all traitors, and I was usually the one to do the punishing." Stolas again paused to let the meaning of his words sink in.

Agni shook with barely concealed rage, and Stolas couldn't help himself from tasting his anger. It tasted very rich and pure, that Stolas had a hard time concealing his hunger. His exhaustion – both mental and physical – caused him to lose little bits of his carefully crafted calm exterior, and he fought to control himself. It did not help that he currently had no master to serve for, other than Great Lord Lucifer, whom he had no desire to see nor serve for, ever again. He pressed on, both to distract himself from temptation, and to focus on the here and now: leave his son in their care, and go fetch the 'milk maid' in the Underworld.

"Even Ciel's own aunt, who was a medical doctor, nearly killed Ciel in cold blood. She, too, was a key player in Ciel's little circle of friends. All this business with cloak and dagger led to Ciel's belief that he really had no one to whom he could trust besides me, and he was correct. Really, towards the end, it was just Ciel and me, the two-man operation. I assured him – repeatedly at great lengths – that I would not leave him, and I never once truly have. …I also do not intend to start even now."

"Why…? I mean, why did neither of you come to me with any of THIS?!" Now, Soma was also shaking with anger. Stolas was all ready to enlighten the prince of this matter.

"Because, my dear Prince Soma, you are a truly innocent, pure-hearted individual who Ciel did not want to …how should I say this? …Taint with all the blood and darkness. His fiancée Elizabeth Middleford also knows next to nothing about any of this business for exactly the same reason.

"I am guilty of doing exactly what he does not want me to do to you, which is to give you two the truth. However, I now have no choice, since you two are the only ones to whom I can safely leave my own son. Besides, offering you both the truth is my own way of thanking you. The world is full of ugliness, without which, we the demons would never exist. However, Prince Soma and Agni, there are those souls – like you – who possess the strength, and natural desire to overcome the ugliness that resides within. I am just equipped with the talent to figure out who they are when I meet them."

"…Very well. On a more practical side, just how long can the baby endure not being fed?" Agni asked, doing the math in his head. Stolas took the question as something that constituted as an olive branch. Stolas gave them the trademark polite smile.

"He just had a nearly-excessive amount, so he should last for a day and a half without being fed. I have an idea – which is a reckless idea at best, and I cannot yet guarantee the result either, but it is the only one that is available to me." Stolas commented as he checked the wrapped cloths the baby was in and finding them wet. He asked Agni for something to change the baby in, and asked Soma to let him use the bathroom again to bathe the baby.

Soma nodded, motioning toward the bathroom, and then commented that Stolas should get cleaned up as well, before he began to smell worse. This one statement from the Indian prince actually managed to make the demon prince blush with embarrassment, and he agreed.

After Agni returned with the towels, Soma ordered Agni to make enough hot water for a 'thorough' bath. Stolas handed the baby to Soma, and told him where the extra set of uniform was stashed. Agni nodded and got the clothes for him right away, then went off to see about the hot water. Once the water was ready, Stolas jumped into the water and scrubbed himself as thoroughly as possible without using too much time, then bathed the baby with the leftover clean water. The baby actually seemed to love bathing, and squealed with delight as each splash of water made him 'as good as new'. Soma and Agni watched in wonder, amazed that the baby was behaving really like any normal human baby.

"Well, he is half-human, of course." Stolas commented as he cleaned the spots between each of his tiny toes.

"By the way," Soma asked as he watched Agni towel-dry the baby while Stolas fixed the clothing to make himself presentable again. "What is the name of your son?"

"Oh, well, I haven't named him, yet." Stolas answered, and received gasps of shock in reply. He sighed. "There is more to just putting a name to a baby in my world. Names have what the ancient Japanese Ying-Yang masters - whom I had the pleasure to actually meet with a very long time ago - called 'Shu', which means 'Spell'. Each name has its unique definition, and the spell which is carried throughout the life of a child, can either protect or curse the child. As I am a demon, and carry that curse with me, I do not feel it appropriate – or safe – for me to name him. I was going to ask the death gods for an appropriate one, but …for the moment, please let him be just …anonymous. Please?" Stolas put weight on the 'Please'. He also refrained from touching or looking at the baby any further, for it saddened him to think that he will now be without the baby.

The now-designated guardians of Stolas's only flesh-and-blood stared at the father, then to the son, then finally at each other, before nodding to themselves.

"All right, Sebastian." Soma nodded, and finally gave Stolas his trade-mark smile. Stolas found himself smiling in return, before he squared his shoulders and bowed to them both.

"Now, prince Soma and Agni, I am a hunted man, and need to flee. I feel terrible about this, but I have to go now, and send for the maid to feed my son. Please excuse me."

With that, and without giving the time for either of the new guardians to reply, Stolas vanished from sight.

*Please review!

*Next up: Grell Satcriff will make a brief – yet memorable - appearance!


	7. Chapter 6

**Secret Yearnings of Souls**

_**Chapter 6: "Hunger Pains"**_

**Written by: Second Wind & GoodbyeMyHeart**

_Secret Portal Site to the Underworld_

_An Unnamed Forest _

_2 Hours Outside of London, England_

_30 Minutes After Leaving Phantomhive Townhouse_

He had only a small window of opportunity.　At this point, Stolas was anything if not absolutely desperate.

And, of course, desperate times called for…

"_Oh! _My Little _Sebast!_"

…desperate measures.

"Please contain yourself," Stolas said, doing his best to keep from screaming in utter exasperation. "I have other priorities now."

Grell—for it was he, red-haired and flamboyant as ever—attempted to launch himself into Stolas' arms (failing miserably) and made a squealing sort of noise. "Oh—always slipping from my grasp, aren't you!"

Stolas quickly averted any further embrace Grell could thrust on him by placing a firm hand in the center of the Death God's chest, holding him—temporarily—at bay. "I've asked you to come here because I need a favor. At the moment, you are the only one who can do it." He sighed. "Unfortunately."

Grell smiled coyly, pressing a finger to the side of his face. "Mmmm, and what may that favor be?" The giggle that followed this made Stolas visibly wince. "Whatever it is, it'll cost you…hmm?"

Stolas did not particularly like the feeling of impending doom that was creeping up on him. "And that price would be…?"

Grell did an annoying little twirl. "How about a hot session of lovemaking, hmm?"

It took all the prince had not to scream to high heaven. "Out of the question," he said through gritted teeth. "Next?"

Grell looked decidedly put out, and made a horrible sulking face. "But! _I _never got that kiss that _your _Earl promised me!"

Stolas sighed. "Alright, alright. Will you do it for a kiss?"

Grell lowered his head and looked at Stolas from under his long, feminine lashes, pursing his lips.

"With the tongue?" he said sweetly, and somehow menacingly.

Stolas blinked. "Pardon?"

"With your tongue! I won't concede any further." With that Grell settled back onto his heels and folded his arms in a very final manner.

Stolas barely restrained the groan of utter frustration that was threatening to burst from his lips. "Fine. Do we have a deal?"

Grell nodded. His fingers were moving excitedly; he couldn't seem to decide whether to smile, move, or remain perfectly still as Stolas stepped toward him.

"Stand up straight," Stolas snapped, noticing the Death God's (unsightly) posture. "Alright, let's get this over with. Rough or soft?"

Grell seemed overwhelmed by those three words, and when he spoke his voice was breathless. "What?"

"Damn it all, do you want it rough or soft?! Make up your mind, I am in a _rush_!" By this time veins were throbbing in poor Stolas' forehead.

"Um—soft?" Grell said, biting his lips with his sharp white teeth. "B-but thorough! Thorough, mind you!"

Stolas released a breath and closed his eyes.

"All right." Stolas commented before reopening his now-chocolate colored eyes and plastered a somewhat genuine smile on his face. He wrapped his free hand around the increasingly blushing Grell's other cheek.

"If you are ready, Grell, close your eyes."

"But… I want to 'see' you." Grell whined.

"This will most likely be the first and the last taste you will have of me. Concentrate on the 'feel' and 'taste'. You have looked at me more than enough, already." The deliberately kind expression on Stolas's face never changed as he advised sincerely.

"…Okay." The death god relaxed his shoulders.

"Keep your eyes closed, your body relaxed, and your posture straight. Here goes." Stolas warned, before tilting Grell's face at the correct angle and closed his mouth over Grell's slightly-trembling one.

Stolas always kept his word if the other did nothing to forfeit it, and so he did keep this one, as well. 'Soft and thorough' he was, invading Grell's strawberry-flavored mouth, exploring every corner of it, and swallowed the moans issued from the other. Stolas resisted only for a moment when Grell tentatively asked to be let into his mouth, willingly letting the man caress every surface of his mouth. Stolas stopped once the need for air surpassed his limit, and pulled away, gasping.

"There! You had it."

Stolas commented, wiping the excess saliva with his shirt sleeve, watching Grell who was also struggling to get his own breath back down to its normal rate. Grell nodded, but speech was still beyond him. "Keep your end of the bargain, Grell Sutcliffe." He pressed, watching the death god nod, then began the explanation.

By the time Stolas was done explaining, Grell was shaking in fear of losing his beloved job, but a deal was a deal. Just one look into Stolas's simmering pink eyes throwing daggers at him, was enough to let Grell know that 'a deal with a devil' was something no being can ever turn their backs on. Swallowing the taste of bile that was swiftly burning its way through his insides, Grell slowly raised his hand high enough to cast it open-palmed over a point on the solid ground.

Stolas watched, relieved, as the portal opened toward the Underworld. He breathed deeply.

"Don't forget to inform the Undertaker that I have gone back, but only for 'the maid', and that I need his shop 'open' when I come back." Stolas drove his point with his glowing pink eyes, making sure that the death god did indeed get the point. Grell nodded repeatedly.

With that, Stolas muttered something in an intelligible language, and turned before his eyes into a giant black bird – a raven, tall enough to reach a three-story building. Grell exclaimed, never having seen the demon prince as anything other than a man. But then, a great gust of wind nearly knocked Grell off of his feet as the giant raven flapped its wings once, twice, and dove into the gaping black hole. The portal closed immediately after the last piece of the raven's tail feather disappeared into the great void.

Grell Sutcliffe was still sitting dumb-founded on the bed of fallen leaves with a big black feather in his hand when the Undertaker showed up, answering the irate younger death god's request.

…Needless to say, the conversation which followed this turn of events did not go very well. If Grell thought that the earful of scolding he received from the usually-goofy retired superior, it went all to hell – pardon the pun – in a hand basket after a distressed William Spears arrived at the scene.

The Undertaker dismissed a tear-streaked Grell, and leaped right back into his shop, where he settled down once again to wait for the reckless prince's arrival while Spears went in search for the crossbreed child whom the prince somehow hid. Although the Undertaker had a very good guess where it could be, he refrained from mentioning it to William Spears, just yet.

The prince, it seemed, was reckless but not stupid. Grell Sutcliffe was a good choice for the task, because he was by now so far down in rank, that no one cared much for him. Also, being a hopeless romantic and a sentimentalist, Grell was always lonely. Coupled with the fact that Grell never got over his infatuation for the demon prince, an honest tongue-tasting kiss would have more than enough power to manipulate the still-young death god.

"Just come back safely." The Undertaker muttered at the still-closed portal on the shop floor. He was also belating himself for hiding the facts behind the prince's past – the undisturbed version of it – from the prince himself. It was clear from the past statements and the reactions to his questionings that the demon prince knew nothing whatsoever about half of his own life.

First, he had to have a talk with Spears, if the man does not succeed in discovering the irate crossbreed child's whereabouts. Then, he was really going to have to send a signal for a 'dialogue' with a messenger who could get a word to the arch angels. Raguel would be the best choice, the Undertaker supposed (and hoped dearly) before he could get a word to his own superiors.

_Secret Portal Site to the Underworld_

_An Unnamed Forest _

_2 Hours Outside of London, England_

_30 Minutes After Leaving Phantomhive Townhouse_

_En Route Palace of Prince Stolas_

_Underworld_

_9 Weeks after the Disappearance of Prince Stolas_

Wind was rushing through his ears as Stolas folded his wings and dove straight down to a safe enough distance to leap into his palace.

The reason which he needed to come close to the palace prior to a leap was because there was absolutely zero margins for error this time. He heard Ciel again, and for what seemed like a hundredth time, he ignored it, because if an actual exchange of signals occurred, 'they' would know his exact position, and will most certainly seal up all the portals beck to the earth

This was one of the biggest reasons for why he had Grell Sutcliffe open up the portal located deep within a forest, quite away from the civilization, then returning to the Undertaker's already-sealed portal, so that no one could detect 'his' signal.

'I WILL make it up to you, Ciel. I promise.' Stolas spoke inside his heart, where the words would remain filed away until it was safe enough for him to voice them. In order for this self-assigned mission to work, he could not let anyone in his territory know that he would be back. Once he was outside of the bellowing black thunder clouds, he aimed straight for the palace, and leaped, praying that he was doing it correctly.

He landed on a marble floor, and the familiar, slightly feminine surroundings of 'the maid'. Then, finding the maid missing from the room, he cursed, wondering where the young lady has gone to. He knew that she was here, for he could detect her presence. However, if he tried to scan harder, he would be broadcasting his own presence, and he could not risk doing it.

As he was trying to decide what to do, however, the door to the room opened, and Stolas quickly returned to his human form and hid in the bathroom. When he heard her voice, he was honestly relieved. However, the words that came out of her mouth brought no relief.

"I have TOLD you, Sir, under oath, that I have absolutely no idea where my lord Stolas has gone to!" She was practically shouting, and he detected heavy tone of sarcasm in the 'Sir'.

"MAID! If you do not stop talking to us in that tone of voice, I will…!" The man never got far enough as the once-renowned warrior beat all the energy out of the offender then threw him out of the room. Stolas inwardly chuckled. 'Looks really are deceiving.' He thought to himself.

Stolas waited until he heard her door slam shut, and heard her footsteps move around the room before announcing his presence. He had been just quick enough to suppress her startled shout with his palm. Before he could say a word, a loud 'SLAP' was heard a split second before he realized he had been slapped – really hard – in the face by the now-enraged maid.

"Where the HELL have you been?!" She growled her words.

Stolas's eyes communicated his own rage, but he remained silent. His hand on the maid's mouth had also stayed in place over her mouth He then whispered harshly into her ear.

"I cannot explain anything to you here. I came for you and for you alone. I know Ciel is down there, and I do not wish to leave him, but I have no choice. You are coming with me, RIGHT NOW."

This was all that Stolas said before he turned back into the giant black bird, and hoisted the young woman over his back. He glanced around, finding the maid's leather satchel and a diary book which she never was without, before leaping again into the black cloud-filled sky.

The maid buried her hands and face into the black raven feathers.

"Hold on tight. I am going to start really flying now." Stolas warned the maid, then began to ascend at top speed – something he had not done in a great long while – flapping his wings as fast as possible, aiming for that spot where the Undertaker's shop must be.

His eyes searched out the location, but he had to have faith that Grell kept his end of the bargain.

"My lord!" The maid called to him in alarm. "Someone's coming! Hurry!" The urgency in the maid's voice scared Stolas more than anything, and he beat his wings even harder, feeling the muscles and ligaments scream for mercy.

"Oh, for god's sake!" Stolas muttered, without thinking how odd it was that those words came out of his mouth. He flew, now focusing only on the portal point, and once there, he kicked it hard with his giant clawed foot.

When the portal did not open immediately, he tried again, making the maid slip off of his back. She screamed as she felt her body slide down her lord's smooth feathered back. Stolas managed to grab her with his other foot – the one which still held her diary book.

"For god's sake! UNDERTAKER! OPEN THE PORTAL!!" Stolas kept kicking it with frustration. He yelped when he felt one of the toes break. The maid watched in horror as she clearly saw the toe dangle from the foot uselessly. He swallowed back a scream as he kicked it again, and this time, he felt a series of cracks ran through the rest of the foot. "IT'S STOLAS!! OPEN THE PORTAL!!!" He shouted out the words, and when it did not work, he began pecking at it with his massive beak.

Just then, he felt something sail right by his ear, and saw that it was a long, thick razor-sharp needle, shot from somewhere at _their _altitude.

"They're here!" The maid shouted at him. Just when Stolas gave up hope and was about to use his own power to open the portal, though, it opened on its own smoothly, allowing Stolas to dive inside without thinking anything further.

The sounds of things breaking, coffins being knocked out place, feet scrambling, and people shouting echoed around for awhile. The air was immediately filled with dust, flying black feathers, and limbs thrashing, until Stolas could turn himself back into his human form. Although, Stolas was stark naked again, in the Undertaker's – as well as the maid's - presence.

Coughing and wheezing from inhaling the dust, fighting to draw in enough air for his burning lungs, Stolas had no room in his mind or body to care about anything other than to 'breathe'. His leg hurt, and one foot was useless due to the fracture.

"My lord!!" The maid took her own outer robe off, and quickly covered Stolas with it. He was beyond answering or to thank her for it, but he stretched his hand over to the maid's diary which he miraculously managed to hold onto in his broken foot. He drew it toward himself, then handed it to the grateful-looking young woman, and closed his eyes with relief. Once she had his body covered, she turned to face the now-curious death god with a look that could very well freeze hell. The Undertaker covered his ears the very moment he sensed her rage.

"YOU… YOU DISPICABLE PIECE OF RAT MEAT!!" The maid screamed at him, baring her fangs and flashing her violet eyes. "HOW DARE YOU REFUSE TO LET US IN?!" Her voice carried a strange tone that made the window glass rattle in their frames. When no answer seemed to be forthcoming, she went on with her tirade, although her hands were busy thoroughly checking for any other injury on Stolas's body in a decidedly practiced manner. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE FACING!? YOU SHOULD BE ON YOUR KNEES, BEGGING FOR MERCY YOU MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT DESERVE!!"

Now, the Undertaker grinned. He always liked strong-minded women, but he now had the first idea what this woman could be. It also explained her obvious pride in herself and in her 'lord'. It also explained the way she looked. Outwardly, she was a harmless, beautiful-looking young woman with flowing golden strands and tall frame. On a closer look, you would think she had come straight out of either a farm or a military barrack, with her strong, muscular legs encased in a pair of thin black pants, over which she wore the customary knee-length fluffy white dress with large pockets.

The dead giveaway was the pair of eccentric boots she wore, on which had an attached outer pocket where two knives were showing. The bone-made hilt of one knife had the personal symbol of Stolas curved neatly into it. The other had a design which looked like the head of a creature that looked to be something in between a cougar and a lion. The Undertaker had seen that design once, a very long time ago, on the renowned race of warrior ladies who rode around the Great Plains mounted on winged horses, delivering renowned and slain mortal warriors to Valhalla and to Odin.

"First of all, young lady, I am not human. I am a death god, whose help your 'lord' over there enlisted. I know exactly who he is, and it is we the death gods who have been protecting him by placing him under protective custody. Your prince is the one who broke out of our protection, without consulting us first, and broke the rule by going back to Hell, just to get you out of there and back in here. By the way, I am a retired death god who is only temporarily brought out of retirement in order to handle this delicate matter. You can just refer to me as 'Undertaker', as your prince does."

"…..Death god?" Her voice returned to its normal clear voice, her eyes scanning the room to find another figure clad in a dark simple business suit. She saw that he wanted to speak – most likely scowl – her for her earlier words but was waiting for permission from the older man.

Stolas coughed and turned his body in a fetal position, still fighting for breath. She kept up a stroking motion on his back, waiting for him to settle down. He raised a hand, with index finger pointing up, as if asking for everyone to give him a moment. She lifted his upper body on her lap for added comfort. Soon, the coughing stopped, and then the wheezing sounds coming from his lungs.

"…Water." Stolas whispered, and the Undertaker brought him a glass. Then, Undertaker noticed the maid's line of sight, and followed it to find a very unhappy-looking William Spears.

"Ahh, William Spears has returned." The Undertaker commented as he beckoned the younger man over to him. "This is William Spears of the Death God Management Department. He managed the dispatched death gods in all of London." The Undertaker then looked to Spears. "Have you found out where the child has gone to?" The Undertaker inwardly chuckled when the elite man straightened himself uncomfortably.

"No, sir. I am afraid I did not find him at the Middlefords nor at any of the other known 'demon haunts'. I will need to go back out there again and look."

"Well, we have the prince back, at least, as he had promised." The Undertaker motioned for the still-recovering Stolas. Spears narrowed his eyes in disapproval.

"Has he told you any of his own situations?" The man who called himself 'Undertaker' asked, and she shook her head 'no' in reply. She looked down to her lord, receiving a nod of approval to answer.

"No, sir, he did not." She answered honestly. "Only, he said …my lord said that I must come with him, and that he only came for me, and me alone. Ciel …that is the name of the human child my lord took home recently …is to be left there, in his room, this time."

This did not surprise the Undertaker in the least. He nodded and motioned for the couch in the corner.

"Let me help you carry him there." The Undertaker offered, but the maid shook her head in refusal and to his and Spears's lasting amazement, she picked Stolas off of the floor 'bridal style' as if he weighed nothing, and gently laid him down on the offered couch. Stolas groaned.

"You are …not human, I know. But …what are you, exactly?" Spears spoke, then quickly glanced at the Undertaker for permission, then nodded when he received it.

"I am the maid of Prince Stolas's palace. I am also his personal guard, and…"

"I am sorry, but that is NOT what I asked you." Spears hit right on target. She flashed her killer glance at the eye-glasses-wearing, death-scythe-wielding, younger death god.

"I don't know the answer to that myself, and neither does my lord. I know that I am at least half Valkyrie, but I have no idea who the father is, and I don't care."

The Undertaker grinned, loving the fact that he had guessed her origin correctly. Spears narrowed his eyes watching the woman set Stolas's broken toe and cracked foot in their correct places.

"How did you end up with this demon?" Spears asked, shifting his eyeglasses.

"That is 'Prince Stolas' to you, you LOWLY death god!" She shot her fierce look of anger at the startled young man.

"Mr. Spears, don't." Stolas issued a warning from where he was.

Spears was unfazed, however, and shot back his own insult.

"Oh, I AM SORRY to be so disrespectful, woman, but DEMONS ARE VIRMINS to us death gods."

"Mr. Spears, don't insult her." Stolas gave another warning, his voice conveying the seriousness of Spears's actions. Spears opened his mouth to retort, but never got to finish his second sentence, as a powerful energy that felt like a punch struck him in the cheek. He gasped, holding his cheek.

"You VERY WELL deserved that!" She snarled at the stunned man, who did not see it coming.

"What did you just do?!" Spears was flabbergasted.

The Undertaker never missed the slight shaking of Spears's voice behind the last few words. Very few ever dared slap this elite death god in the face; especially not women.

"Will you two please calm down now? We are supposed to be friendly. We do not have the luxury of becoming enemies and fight with each other over issues that are so _mundane_."

The Undertaker motioned for the woman to be seated. She did, but she elected to use the couch by lifting Stolas's head and laid it back down over her lap, her hand now flat against his heart. Stolas did not protest. It struck both the Undertake and now Spears that this particular series of movements must be a frequent occurrence to these two individuals.

"Mr. Spears, Sir Undertaker, this is my adopted daughter, Regina."

Stolas introduced 'the maid' to the stunned death gods as he motioned to her.

"Well, my lord was kind to regard me as such, although for security purposes, I am registered as his maid and personal guard." She supplied.

"…..No relation?" Undertaker asked for confirmation, and Stolas shook his head.

"None. You may recognize the name: Reginleif on a legendary Valkyrie, which means 'Power Truce'. I just shortened it, and modified it a bit to better fit her. It is not her original name, of course, but since she does not recall her old name, and she wished to be renamed once she became mine to care for, I gave her the name Regina."

"I was a prize." She supplied, grinning when she saw Spears shift his eyeglasses.

"I won a duel. Against another Valkyrie. Long, long time ago." Stolas continued, then turned his body again sideways to face them. His feet and his entire backside hurt when he tried to sit up. Sensing this, Regina began rubbing his back, muttering something intelligible while she was at it. Stolas moaned with honest pleasure/pains as his damaged muscles were restored.

"I was found abandoned by one of the elders of the Valkyrie village where we used to make clothes and quilts out of harvested and dried human intestines. …We do that."

She explained when she saw Spears grimace.

"Prince Stolas was there for only that particular day. He went out on the march along with the other elite Valkyrie warriors who often scouted the territories. He was there as a guest of sort, sent to us by his father: Great Lord Asmodeus. He was welcomed by us, because Valkyrie often take ravens to accompany us, while others choose swans over ravens. Valkyrie decide who dies in battles fought among the mortals, and demons like him eat the souls of the dead, so we have this partnership of sort.

"One of the elders set up a duel on the last day of his stay, and it went on for nearly forty rounds. He refused to end the life of the one whom he won against, but asked for a prize, instead. We all thought he was doing it to pick one of us up as 'an entertainment' like we commonly end up doing. However, that was not my lord's intension. Besides, he was barely old enough to think about having any mate officially. My lord pointed at me with the tip of his sword, and asked the elders to give me to him. Not as an entertainment, of course, but as a property.

"I never intended her to become 'my slave' or a 'mate' or a 'private entertainment'." Stolas clarified.

"…I remembered that he was watching me: the one who got abandoned. I used to do odd chores around the village to earn my keep. He did not miss the way I could lift heavy objects and that I was good in the kitchen as a helper. We were all surprised, but a win was a win, and they never really appreciated me, so I was handed over to my lord without any objection from any of the villagers."

"I have never scared you, have I?" Stolas asked, his eyes searching for the truth behind her violet eyes.

"No, not that time." She shook her head honestly. Stolas narrowed his eyes a little, but decided to let her go on.

"My lord brought me back to his father's palace. Lord Asmodeus knew exactly what I was the moment he laid his eyes on me, and praised his son for winning a Valkyrie, 'even a half-breed', he said. Then he suggested my lord to put me up with the group of 'mates' he had kept to raise me as 'future entertainment', but my lord got me settled in the kitchen first. Then, he moved me to the infirmary where he taught me about the medicinal plants and precious stones that were used to treat sickness and injuries."

"Speaking of which," Stolas said, finally sitting up and moving his limbs around. "I think I am all better. You've improved your healing spells again. Great."

"Wait. …What do you mean, 'he was barely old enough'? Are you saying that you …are nearly as old as Stolas himself?" Spears was having hard time believing this. Next to him, the Undertaker furrowed his eyebrows and rested his chin in his hand, tap-tapping his cheek with one of his fingers as if bothered by something.

"We are probably …about 20, 30 years apart in age, I think." Stolas supplied.

"Noble demons take their sweet time raising their young. Once they are grown up, however, they start doing whatever they wish to do with themselves, and …with their offspring."

She stopped right then, looking very much uncomfortable with the telling of her story.

"Regina? I cannot move from this place, so tell me what is going on in my palace. I do not mind these two listening." Stolas finally asked, making up his mind.

"My lord, we will lose. Ciel is all alone, against an army of 'her' minions, and of course, her 'son'."

"Son?!" Spears was alarmed.

"Not related by blood to my father. It's Cerberus, she is talking about; the 3-headed monster dog." Stolas clarified. Spears seemed bewildered. Spears was no doubt trying to picture the dog – which he had seen in documents – with Echidna's long, lithe, snake's torso and utterly failing to imagine how the snake lady gave birth to a 3-headed dog in the first place. She sighed again.

"It gets worse. That dog's father is also a son of Echidna."

"From the previous mating?" Spears asked, now looking nauseated. Stolas nodded.

"Yes. The mate was one of the ancient gods."

"Once Cerberus came attacking, there is very little that will hold up the walls of the basement Ciel is in. It is only a matter of time before the whole palace gets demolished. …Lady Echidna never loved my lord, anyway." She ran her free hand through his hair, and Stolas closed his eyes.

"So, my assumptions were correct. I am convinced she wants me eradicated, and will ask Lucifer to issue an official death warrant." Stolas commented, keeping his eyes closed to the world.

"Lady Regina, you said earlier that you are very close to his age. …Have you ever met any of your lord's other family members, besides his father?"

"I met Lady Echidna, of course, when her army came barging in. I once met some of the elders when they came into the palace for conferences and war reports and all, but… I myself was away on …what could be said as 'a quest' of sort. My lord thought that maybe it will do me a lot of good, if I went and stayed with the Valkyrie ladies in order to learn how to fight in their way.

"I was already equipped with an introductory knowledge of fighting in my lord's style, so I listened and went out for… what amounted as a millennium in your world. I wrote reports and bragged about my progress and everything."

"Oh, I remember that. …I wasn't …I am sorry, I cannot remember much about events that happened around that time." Stolas buried his head in his hands, trying once again to remember what he could not. Regina put her hand on his arm, silently telling him not to bother.

"I once returned to lord Asmodeus's palace, but I was told that my lord was gone on his own quest with the warlords, and I was actually turned away by his father. That was the last I have seen of his father. I remember that he complimented me for the accomplishment and presented me with a beautiful sword and a large bag of precious gems we used often as money in this world. So, I went off again and made a name for myself for another century or so."

"…Thank you. That made a whole lot of sense." The Undertaker commented honestly. 'So, the lady had been lied to, as well. How shrewd.' He thought to himself. "When did you actually get reacquainted with the prince?" He asked, trying not to show his mounting curiosity. She looked up at the ceiling as if trying to recall.

"I did not see him until he returned back from the human world. He was heralded for spreading the Black Death in Europe, and human souls were dropping down to Hell like flies. I had never seen such number of souls flooding through the front gates."

"I am NOT proud of that." Stolas stressed this point, startling Regina a bit. She clammed up immediately, and Stolas sensed something in her that struck a chord within him. His own memories began blending in with her words, and suddenly he understood what she meant earlier.

"I scared you, haven't I?" Stolas asked very softly. She hesitated, but her lord's eyes already spoke more words than he uttered. She sighed.

"Yes, but that was the only time. I could never admit to you that I actually was scared of you. Me, the decorated warrior even amongst the Valkyrie, was afraid of my own lord. It is pathetic."

"No. I was the one who was pathetic."

"Maybe we should stop discussing this right here?" Regina was offering an 'out', but Stolas already knew there was no such thing. Not now.

"I need for them to know. I need to make myself understand what I did. Don't offer me a way out, Regina."

"…If only you are sure."

"I am. This is exactly the place and occasion to do this. Besides, I have a few …last orders to give you. Not now, though."

"…Very well." Regina sighed. "…I did not recognize my lord when he actually returned to his palace. There had been a series of banquets to cerebrate his accomplishment, but that was not 'my lord'. He was …changed into someone I did not really wish to get close to. He …did not recognize me at first, and he actually tried to take me to his bedroom, but he stopped once I resisted him."

"OHHHH… I am definitely ashamed of that." Stolas hid his face behind his open hands.

"My lord was very drunk, and was not himself, so it was actually easy for me to overpower him. I held him down on the floor and made him look into my eyes for a long moment. …Long enough for him to recognize the purple shade in my eyes. …I do not think I will ever, ever forget the look of absolute 'horror' in his eyes the moment he recognized me, and realized what he had been trying to do to me. …He was retching for a long time after that. He sobered up really quickly then."

"Yes. I sworn off drinking for …an entire decade, I think. Not unless I was forced to." Stolas clarified, eyes closed tightly.

"…Thank you for that input. Did you notice anything else that was …odd, about the prince?"

"Only after I got settled down at his palace. Yes, he had a palace of his own after the Black Death incident. I volunteered to be his 'maid' as well as a security guard, and began to take care of him. It seemed that he had been captured at one time during one of his quests, and was held up. He only told me that someone must have 'clipped' his wings to punish him."

"I really cannot recall this incident. I have tried to, so many times, but without success." Stolas supplied, and felt Regina squeeze his hand.

"Maybe some things are better left untouched." Regina offered, but at the same time issuing her lord a silent warning not to push himself too far. Especially NOT the details about issues concerning her lord's king: Lucifer. Stolas sighed, taking her silent words.

"…Well, my lord couldn't remember much of anything after I left him. He said he stopped feeding only when he felt full. Then, his father was gone soon after."

"Have you ever left your lord again, after he returned?"

"Only when he went out to hunt for souls, which I do not eat. I prefer meat, as in 'game'. I have no idea why, but my body is not equipped to consume souls like my lord's body is. I never want to leave him again. I know that nothing good is waiting for me at any of the Valkyrie villages, despite my accomplishments. I am happy where I …well, wherever it is that my lord sees fit to send me to."

She finished. The two death gods looked at each other, silently communicating. Both reached the same conclusion and nodded to each other.

"I will need to talk to your …master. Then, I shall inform the authorities of his safe return." The Undertaker commented.

"I would like to get dressed. …I do have an extra set of my butler suits at the Phantomhive townhouse." Stolas offered, then immediately regretted once he remembered that the baby was hidden there.

"My lord cannot go out, and since neither of us have whatever you use as currency in this world, please provide my lord with an appropriate set of clothes." Regina protested, not wanting to see her lord in 'butler clothes'.

The Undertaker never missed the sudden change of expression on the prince's face when he mentioned the Phantomhive townhouse, and grinned inwardly. To Spears, the Undertaker ordered to get Stolas a set of suits. Spears moved to object, but was effectively silenced with the older man's "Please, Will? Just this once? For me??", and a wink. Spears sighed and took out a pocket-sized notebook and asked the prince for the sizes. Jotting down the numbers that the prince rattled off quickly, Spears disappeared without further word.

"May I ask why it took so long for you to open up that portal?" Stolas asked the burning question.

"I asked the same question earlier." The 'maid' chimed in.

"I wish I could tell you, Stolas." The Undertaker answered sincerely. Both Stolas and the maid failed to disguise their disappointment to this statement, and Stolas dropped his gaze down to his lap in deep thought.

"How is your foot?" She asked. Stolas tried moving it, then winced as jolts of pain shot through his entire foot and calf. She watched hid reaction. "We'd better work on that." She added, then moved her hands away as Stolas rolled over and tried to reach the injured foot with his own hand to use his own healing spell.

The Undertaker watched her closely, staying silent and trying not to be noticed, for this was a side of the prince which only the select few had ever witnessed.

"My foot needs a little more time, but it should be fine." Stolas added.

Just then, a 'ping' was heard, and William Spears reappeared with a large paper bag, which all three occupants of the room assumed was the set of clothing for Stolas to wear.

"These are for you. They are all new, and in your sizes. Keep them, and pay me back later." With these words, Spears literally threw the bag toward the stunned prince. Stolas caught it in mid-air as the bag sailed straight toward his face.

"Thank you and I will." Stolas answered sincerely. Spears was surprised to see that the demon prince had recovered so quickly. But, when his eyes met the violet eyes of the Valkyrie half-breed, he figured she had helped him. He shifted his eyeglasses in the way of acknowledgement, and shifted his gaze toward Stolas who was rummaging through the contents of the bag without actually taking anything out. Spears sighed.

"I suggest that you get cleaned up BEFORE putting any clothes on. You'll ruin it!" Spears commented sternly, and the maid quickly stood up. She turned again to face Stolas.

"I will get you cleaned up, my lord. Where can I get the hot water ready? I will only require enough to wipe his body clean." She asked the Undertaker, who grinned and went to show her the kitchenette.

While the prince and his maid were busying themselves in the bathroom, the Undertaker and Spears took the opportunity for a private discussion.

"What do you supposed is the best course of action thus far?" Spears asked, to which the Undertaker replied in hushed tone.

"Do you have anyone besides yourself who can be trusted enough, and are high-ranking enough, to be sending a few words 'up above'?"

Spears was taken aback by this question. Then, he mulled things over an appropriate response in his head before shaking his head 'no'.

"After this latest stunt the demon has pulled on us, I honestly think they would be hunting for his head rather than looking for an olive branch to offer."

"Mmmmm…" The Undertaker rubbed his chin with his hand.

"Sir, they will hunt you down, as well, if you side by that demon too much more." Spears warned, and the Undertaker knew from past experiences that he could not discount this death god's opinions outright.

"Spears. I will ask you to stay by us for a little longer."

"…All right." Spears sighed, listening to the muffled conversations drifting from behind the closed door.

In the back room, things were surely heating up, but for different reasons than the death gods were supposing.

"My lord, what are you saying? What do you mean you cannot stay with me any longer?"

"I am not saying it to ditch you. Please, stop calling me 'my lord' when we are alone. I …you were lucky that you did not get listed or registered as my adopted daughter like I had planned. Otherwise, you would have been hunted down as I am right now."

"What do you mean, I cannot stay with you?"

"As I was explaining to you," Stolas said as he took the wet towel from her and cleaned his lower half on his own. "I have a son, who is also a crossbreed child such as yourself, but one who was born in between me and a human female. He cannot exist anywhere other than here, but he cannot – most likely – eat normal human food. He had been fed by me and with my blood alone since birth. The mother's already been burned to death and I rescued the baby from the priests and a church full of worshippers with THEIR help." Stolas pointed toward the closed door for emphasis. The maid's eyes grew wider with sudden realization.

"The baby is going to need my care, and my blood. Isn't that what you are trying to tell me?" She asked, then saw him nod in reply.

"Yes, precisely."

"You want me to raise your son, and where?"

"Here among the living humans. Eventually in Prince Soma's palace in India. He has far more than enough resources to take care of you both, and the authority to give you the privacy you will surely be needing, as well as top-level education for the boy."

"Just who in the h… I mean, who is this 'Prince Soma' person?" Now, she was being grumpy, and Stolas wished they could have more time alone with each other to smooth things over. However, as luck would have it, time was the one thing they did not have.

"He is a prince from India whom Ciel helped out a while back. He has been a good friend to both Ciel and …I guess, to me. He is a pure-hearted human, although in sore need to mature. He has a wonderful butler named Agni, who is an extremely generous, kind, and has the heart of a true warrior. He can actually duel with me equally when I am taking human form. You would enjoy his company. Besides that, his family has been, throughout generations, serving their Hindu Goddess Kali."

"Kali?! Why?!" She was genuinely shocked, knowing exactly what the goddess was like during her killing spree.

"Because she is a courageous goddess who had slain the devil, at the risk of losing her own sanity. …Or, at least that was the impression that I received from listening to him. You should ask him more about it when you meet him." Stolas shrugged.

"…What should I tell 'him' about 'you'?" She asked, telling Stolas who she meant by her eyes.

"Anything that you, Soma, and Agni believe are appropriate for his development. He cannot exist in our world without first being dead, and that is not an option right now." Stolas was alarmed when she nodded curtly.

"Right. So, you are abandoning us."

"I am letting you two escape."

"From Hell?"

"Exactly. You will have no future by staying with me."

"Who said I wanted any?"

"Please, listen to me. That baby's only chance of survival is to stay with you. I took you here, so that you cannot just 'go back home' and tell our non-existent friends that I am gone. I do intend to go through all the necessary legal procedures that I need to, because that is my duty. You, however, have this unique opportunity to get out of Hell, and see the things I have seen and experienced. Besides, you and Agni are both extremely powerful warriors. You can keep my son safe. This is the …second to last order I am giving you."

Stolas paused then, and let his words sink into her mind and heart. She still looked none too happy, but at least she had stopped fuming.

"What is the 'final' order for me, 'my lord'?" She asked, still not above removing the sting out of her tone. Stolas inwardly winced.

"Promise me, that you will make yourself happy."

"Excuse me?"

"Find a suitable companion, raise my son well, and be happy."

"You are insane."

"Was I ever wrong about you?" Stolas challenged her with a raised eyebrow.

"Not yet." She answered with her own raised eyebrow.

"Then, please keep on living." Stolas pleaded sincerely, and with that declared the end of their conversation.

They worked as a team to get Stolas ready. Regina combed, trimmed, then styled his hair using her knife, and was positively surprised to find him look 'refreshed', much younger, and …professional, when he had his hair up. Stolas remained silent throughout the 'make-over' recalling the memory of that time when Lady Francis came visiting the Phantomhive manor. He now looked much like the 'improved' version of himself from that day. He suspected that his daughter was waging a silent war against William Spears by making her adopted father look better than the younger death god.

The two death gods looked genuinely astonished to see the demon prince's transformation after seeing the near-death version from earlier. Spears actually took off his eyeglasses and cleaned the lenses before putting them back on. Behind Stolas, his daughter silently congratulated herself.

"Thank you very much for these clothes, Mr. Spears." Stolas commented as Regina showed him off, turning him around to let the two men see him from all sides.

"I think that it is high time you have learned who you really are, Prince Stolas."

The older death god stated, startling Stolas with the confirmation he sought regarding his earlier suspicion.

Spears apparently did not know what this was about, for he questioned the Undertaker with a look that clearly said he wanted to know the answer beforehand. The Undertaker shook his head to silence the younger man, to which Spears swallowed and bit back whatever questions he had.

"Mr. Spears, please escort Ms. Regina safely to the Phantomhive Townhouse in London. I believe that is where the child is being kept, with Prince Soma and his butler, Agni."

"Pardon?" Spears asked in disbelief. Not only was he not being told what this was about, he was not even allowed attendance to whatever discussions Undertaker was going to have with Stolas.

"I am terribly sorry, Spears, but I need to keep this conversation in between myself and Prince Stolas. I will tell you as soon as it becomes safe to do so." Undertaker said, his eyes telling the younger man that this conversation was over. Spears swallowed, and took Regina's arm. Regina herself was issuing her protest to the prince with her gaze, but seeing as though her lord couldn't seem to believe this, and gave up upon meeting the Undertaker's unyielding gaze.

They were gone in an instant, leaving the prince and the Undertaker alone in his shop again.

The air became tense the moment their eyes met.

"May I make us some tea?"

Stolas asked, only because he was desperate now for something else to do, and to pay attention to, than the reality of his situation. The Death God smiled with understanding.

"No, thank you. I have my pot still filled half-way, and I have my cookies. …The kitchen is right beyond that door, but you cannot go in right now. Then again, it's only fair. I am locked in, as well."

"…This is fast becoming a painful experience for me."

"I apologize for the lack of …entertainment here."

"Speaking of entertainment, I can give you as much 'laugh' as you can handle, seeing as we have nothing else to do."

Undertaker smiled, amused. "No, thank-you. I am on duty."

"…"

"Some other time."

"..."

"This is a formal procedure, Prince Stolas. Please treat it as such."

"I am. However, a prolonged confinement is one of the things which I find most painful."

"Is that due to your experience of being sealed up inside that pot?"

"That, too."

Undertaker smirked as the memories lit up on Stolas' face. He got up to pour himself another cup of tea from the now-cooling pot, and picked up another one of his bone-shaped cookies to nibble on. Prince Stolas looked away from the sight, letting his eyes fall on the dusty floor beneath his feet.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not from any actual discomfort, but from anxiety. His apprehension showed now in his chocolate-colored irises.

" …May I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Go on." The Undertaker put down his tea cup, and leaned closer to the prince, curious. The demon prince's eyes moved around restlessly, seemingly in search of something to rest on. His mouth moved once or twice to form the words that did not easily come. The Undertaker was just about to give the prince a nudge when he finally spoke.

"What do…? I mean, what happens to the demons that have had their wings clipped short, or completely off?"

This question caught Undertaker completely off-guard, and he was forced to take a moment before replying. A hundred different scenarios for why this was being asked began chasing each other in his head.

"…Like your arm, you could have your limbs fixed and restored if you are powerful enough."

"Do you think my chances are good?"

"Don't under appreciate the Earl, Stolas," Undertaker said gently. "You can use his soul."

"I'm not under appreciating him. I just… It was very difficult to give him a 'body' after I… took what I needed from his soul to get my arm back, and to …nourish myself. If I had taken any more out of him, I might have lost him completely."

"He had agreed to that from the beginning, had he not?" Undertaker tilted his head, trying to interpret the look on the demon's face.

"Yes, he did. But…"

"And you never told him – until near the end – that your only source of nourishment is through human souls…that is, the souls of humans under contract, or at least those who had been marked as yours by the higher authorities."

"That is not a conversation I would like to recall much. It hurts." Stolas averted his eyes from the Death God, his lips twisting painfully at the thought.

"It was in his cinematic records, you know."

"I never should have told him. …Well, I didn't 'tell him', exactly. He found out on his own. But… if only Angela used a regular whip…"

"He wouldn't have seen the scars?"

"Nor would he have gone to Paris after packing up his entire life."

"So. The body is much more difficult to fix than the possessions, eh?"

"My appearance - outwardly, that is - remained all right…I healed the bruises and fractures on my body, and healed my wrists because they were in shackles and were damaged. …But, everything else had to be postponed until later, because I wouldn't sacrifice speed over my master's safety."

There was an uncomfortable pause in the musty room.

"There is…one more little thing." Undertaker scratched his face with one long fingernail. "A bit of a change of subject, but…"

"What?"

"Erm…" Undertaker grinned sheepishly. "Your mother isn't your real mother."

Stolas blinked. "Pardon?"

"I am saying that, you were …adopted, sort of."

Undertaker was unfazed when Stolas bolted out of his seat. He looked around the room in a sort of daze, mouthing wordlessly.

"Don't be absurd!" he gasped finally. "Demons don't adopt babies! We steal them, ruin them, eat them!"

"And make them."

The Undertaker still kept his composure, lazily twirling a strand of his long silver hair around his little finger.

Again Stolas blinked, not quite sure where this conversation was going. "…As I have. Yes."

"With any beings."

"….."

Stolas kept up his pacing, but the color of his irises was slowly settling again into a somewhat contained shade of crimson.

"Have you forgotten what the angel tempted you with?"

"What? That 'you can be the ruler of the new world' nonsense?"

"After that."

"….That …Oh!" Stolas halted his pacing when the answer hit him, looking rather disgusted, and for good reason. "'I can accept you as a woman, if you will not accept me as a man...'"

He paused. Undertaker gave him a pointed, nasty grin.

Stolas scowled, and then his expression settled into shock, seeing as Undertaker's smile was going nowhere.

"But, that's… that cannot be! When…?"

"Your natural mother was an angel. She mated with your father."

"I …I'm …a crossbreed." Stolas's eyes were narrowed in confusion and incredulity.

"Yes."

"A…crossbreed." Stolas tried to remember any precedence with such a pairing and failed to come up with one. It couldn't be. Their bodies would not have accepted each other. Even if his mother had been willingly 'brought down' to Hell, and willingly 'mated' with his father, the end result would not have been a successful conception.

Undertaker seemed to know his turbulent thoughts. "Yes. The _most_ unlikely pair. Ash may have been aware of this."

"And thought that I would be… pliable."

"Easier to coax."

"…Who was she?"

"An angel who sacrificed herself as a bargaining chip in order to save the life of another angel who made a foolish mistake that put her in the hands of demons. Your mother had been executed by your current mother. It was…said to be one of the most brutal executions in the history of your kind."

Stolas made a strangled sort of noise.

"When she tried to go back to heaven," Undertaker continued softly.

"After having me?"

"Yes, and she tried to take you along. You obviously blacked out that part of your own memory."

"…Is that …Is that why I survived, coming out of that church with…" He gestured wordlessly around.

"A pure-blood demon wouldn't have had a chance. But, I took that chance because I thought that if I had kept on protecting you, the angelic bits might have come out and…shielded you. You see."

"What will happen to him, now that I cannot leave here?"

"He is under my protection. He should be safe at your Earl's townhouse with Prince Soma, Agni, and Regina. Once Prince Soma decides to leave here - and I do mean England, then your son and Regina will be going with the prince and Agni. No one will harm your son there, and I will know of his and Regina's whereabouts and their health through reports from…'above'. He will have the best of everything, I am sure."

"Yes, I am sure about that, as well." Stolas couldn't contain a smile, remembering how the prince and the ex-priest's son quickly grew attached to the newborn once Stolas handed him over, and actually regarded him as theirs to care for. Having been born a prince, Soma could make sure that Stolas's son would always be provided with the best of everything.

"Will I …ever see him again?" This was a question Stolas had been asking himself since he had handed the child over to the Undertaker.

"If you can come out of this mess alive, and he can be _kept_ alive, you will have many chances to see him. Just do not give up, and keep looking for chances." The words were spoken with an unexpectedly encouraging tone.

This, however, was lost on Stolas.

"He won't even remember me."

"Don't you remember your own life when you were just a baby?"

"I… was mostly raised by the caretakers, as any royal demon family was. We often get abandoned and are forgotten, or simply cast aside by our own parents, because demons are very dedicated to their respective desires and needs. We are not at all family-oriented."

"No wonder you said what you said to Prince Soma when you first met him."

"Well… He needed to wake up." Stolas scowled.

"Could that have anything to do with what you have done …to the Earl?"

Stolas raised his head in alarm. Undertaker was such a skilled interrogator, he thought again, just letting his subjects lower their guards, before he made the kill-shot.

"What do you mean?"

"What happened to you in Paris is an issue I find disturbing. "

"The…" Stolas stopped and cleared his throat, his discomfort obvious. "…The abandonment of…"

"Your severance from Ciel."

"…Yes …I offer no excuse. I did leave my master, and put our contract on hold without his consent."

"Which, in turn, put the boy in great danger."

"…I couldn't take it anymore. In many ways." Stolas ran a hand over his face.

"Which …you _did_ explain to him eventually?"

"Yes. I did. On our way to the boat on the Thames."

"After your return."

"Yes…after I found him mortally wounded."

"Hmm. Surprising, that you didn't see _that _trap coming." Undertaker smirked.

"I suspected it, but I wasn't… Ciel wasn't ready until he was in too deep, to understand what he had been living for."

"The revenge?"

"Yes."

"May I ask at what moment you decided to return to your master?"

"It was after I saw him come back to London on his own. But, I needed his orders for me to reactivate our channel. "

"Were you not… tempted? By Ash's offer?"

"Of course, I was." Stolas snorted. "If it had been any other demon, the offer would not have been refused. But, I could not make my decision until I knew for sure that…_my_ Ciel was back."

"And '_your_ Ciel' did not really appear until…"

"Until he was surrounded by those…damn soldiers…they mistook him for an assassin."

"Did you believe Ciel knew that you were back? When he took off that eye patch?"

"I don't think so. He just had to try on blind faith that I would be there for him." Stolas said it softly, and dropped his eyes to the dusty floor.

"Did you …happen to know that he was fully expecting to get the bullets?"

"I… I felt him relax. He lowered his guard. I knew…he was very much glad to have me back."

"To belong to you." Undertaker touched a long black nail to his lips. "You could say."

Stolas bit his lip.

"He must have thought, that so long as he had you by his side, his death…would mean something."

"I …knowing what I know of him, he would have gone on as far as he could, to fight or crawl his way out to Ash, even if I just waited for him to die without intervention."

"Heh. _He_ would have. … no other child would get further than an inch with ten bullets in him." Undertaker grinned. "After you reactivated the contract, he once again became yours to protect until he had achieved his goal. You did a superb job, and you two ultimately succeeded—I'll grant you that. But, let's not let ourselves go that far, yet. I still wasn't finished with you in regard to the Paris incident."

Undertaker watched as Stolas's expression darkened. He knew this was the creature's sore spot, although it was nothing that was blatantly against the rules.

"…Are you …? No. I think I know what you are trying to get to."

"And I fully intend to."

"…I did, I think, commit a breach of contract, although I think it was more of a grey area."

"Yes, it was."

"Considering that I was not technically under contract, and considering the fact that I was at the breaking point… with the long-term effect of starvation, the thirst, and energy loss."

"Courtesy of the angel..."

"I really think they…_did_ something to those torture instruments. Nothing was healing like it should have. Nothing …I mean, no ordinary tools of that nature should have deprived me of _that_ much energy."

"I think you were right about everything." Undertaker gave a shrug, twisting his hair. "So. You detached yourself from your master, bid him farewell and…then what did you do?"

"Well, all I had was my uniform, and I did not really want to go through the trouble of getting another outfit, so I …went out as I was."

"And you roamed the city of Paris at night." The Death God spoke with the air of one telling a story, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

"In search for something to calm my nerves, and…"

"Food."

"That was one of the …no, the only objective I had, really."

"You needed to live. Understandable…"

"Yes. I am glad it was at night! Otherwise, I would have attracted way too much attention with my…appearance."

"You think so?"

"I looked like a very sick person."

"You may think so, but humans apparently didn't notice."

Stolas chuckled darkly. "Apparently."

"Otherwise, no one would have come to you."

"…She was desperate," Stolas finally relented.

"I daresay!"

"But, I was far more desperate. She did not know that at the time."

"She was of a noble birth. Did you know that?"

"…She hinted it as much. It was in the way she moved, talked…behaved, I should say."

"She was surprised when you made her tea, hmm?"

"Yes, she was."

"What did you see in her? Even if you were desperate, you wouldn't have gone for any ordinary, common souls."

"She… She had a rebellious side."

"She was the one who spotted you."

"Yes. She …kept looking at me, and was obviously trying to decide whether or not to approach me."

"Did you know her intentions?"

"Kind of. I am very much used to being stared at with…naked desires."

"She thought you may have come from a rather luxurious lifestyle."

"Yes." Stolas laughed softly. "And she was correct!"

"But, you needed an agreement, first."

"Yes. That is a principle that I will never change."

"Alright then. Continue."

"…She was clearly hurting inside, and the pain of her life showed on her face. Her soul was very dark, I could see that. A she approached me after making some kind of a decision, she gave me a series of looks that reminded me of a wounded wild animal seeking a shelter. I…knew exactly how to manipulate her. She had a lot of weaknesses - a lot of angles from which to attack and ply."

"And?" The Undertaker watched as Stolas dropped his gaze, suddenly becoming interested in the spot between his shoes. He waited, because he already knew most of the details. It was not the details he was interested in. He was most interested in the demon's reactions … and honesty.

Stolas closed his eyes, remembering.

_There was something…impeccable about her._

_She shifted nervously on her feet, large wet eyes fixed on his face. He waited for her to speak, only half-hearing the jeers of the other pedestrians. Look at her, they whispered. Does she really think he's interested? He couldn't be. Look at her. Look at her._

_She stammered a 'hello' in his general direction, lifting her chin, trying to retain some shred of dignity. _

_He did not reply at first. He was fixed on her eyes. The windows to the soul, he thought, as their dark, damp brown slowly grew darker still._

_She was angry. She was in turmoil. A catlike grin curled across his lips. _

_The perfect prey._

"_Good evening to you, too, madam," he said softly, encouragingly. Her face lit up, just slightly, at his words. "Might I ask you to join me for tea? You seem to be taking chill."_

_The words were purrs. They teased the woman's ears, crept inside, settled in. Her face melted into something like the corpse of happiness._

_Her voice, however, remained firm and proud. "I would be…delighted, sir," she said gracefully. She could not quite meet his eyes. But he was used to that._

_He offered her his arm, and she took it. They stalked past the whispering pedestrians, who were now gossiping their shock. Oh well, they said, when the surprise had worn off. She'll get a bedding and that'll be the end of it. I know it. Look at her._

"_Madam, if I may ask," he said, when they were out of sight of the whisperers, "could we find some…privacy?"_

_The last word was spoken in a hush, breathed in her ear. She shivered._

"_I…believe I know a place."_

_It was not far. Just around the corner, in fact, a run-down back boarding room, small and aged. The walls were cracked and strung with wilting ivy in and out, lit with only three feeble candles._

_She was nervous. He could smell it._

_She opened a faded drawer and rummaged about, pulling out candle after candle, fingers shaking, glancing always over her shoulder at his patient watching face._

_He grew impatient, though, as she fumbled with the white wax. He sighed then, and snapped his fingers; she jumped back as the candles burst into life._

_She turned wide, fearful eyes on him. _

"_I have…a proposal for you, madam." He bowed smoothly. Her gaze was fixed on his fingers. "As you may have guessed, I am not human."_

_She backed away, but only a few faltering steps. Then she paused, and curled her fingers back and forth for a moment, licking her lips. She was curious._

"_I am a demon, milady. And…it is a sad fact…I have not eaten in…a long, long time." _

_He approached her softly, making no sudden movements, drawing her into some sort of false security. "I am desperate, madam. I would ask you to…assist me. In this endeavor."_

"_My soul." She spoke tremblingly, but her face was fearless. "You want my soul, then?"_

"_The lady is intelligent," he purred. "Yes. But I assure you, you will not suffer long. And I shall be gentle."_

_She bit her lip. "Why should I give it to you?"_

_He remained silent. He would let her work it out on her own._

_Her eyes flickered downward. "I…you…" Her wide orbs filled slowly with tears. _

_"You've…" She laughed mirthlessly, softly. "You've been so kind to me. And we've only met—what? A half an hour ago?"_

_Her smile was sorrowful._

"_Never. I've never had luck with men like you. Men…men don't take kindly to women like me. I have…I have not touched a man, sir, in…longer than I can remember. A man has not touched me with kindness or tenderness in twice that time." She raked at her skirts with her fingernails, as if fighting the 'yes' she knew she had to give. "I…"_

_He watched her silently, smiling gently. He knew she would give in._

"_I…yes. Alright. I will give you…my soul…but only if…only if…"_

"_I understand, madam." He stepped across the creaking floor to her, and lifted her chin gently, looking into her eyes with a soft expression on his face. "A beautiful woman like you should not be starved for intimacy. It is simply…unfair."_

"_Will you promise me," she said, breathless, tears now streaming silently down her face, "will you…promise…to hold me?"_

"_Hold you?" he repeated softly._

"_When it's done—I…I have not been held…" Unable to go on, she buried her face in his chest. When she spoke again, the words were muffled, filled with despair. "Please. And if…I fall asleep in your arms, sir…kind arms…" She clutched at his arms as if to push her point. "I do not care if I never wake again."_

"_Of course," he whispered gently, turning them both about, holding her loosely against him. "Of course I shall promise."_

"_The truth is, madam," he breathed—she closed her eyes as his warm, sweet breath drifted over her eyes. "I…have a master. I have had to leave him, for a time…I cannot protect him as I am…"_

"_And that is why you need me?" She looked up into his dark eyes, and a look of compassion overcame her lovely face. "Oh—you're doing it for him?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Oh." She reached up, hesitantly, as if afraid to touch him, and gently laid her fingers on his cheek. "He is…Phantomhive?"_

_He tilted his head, curious._

_Her fingers drifted to his lapel pin and stroked the crest. "The little boy…you need to protect him?"_

"_Yes. For…more reasons than I can say." The words were strained._

"_That is…compassion I would never have expected," she whispered. "To go so far for…oh."_

_She seemed overcome with his kindness and the sweet scent of him; when she looked up at him again her eyes were just the slightest bit unfocused, as if she were in a daze._

_They fell softly to the bed almost before she knew they were moving._

"_I…I was hesitating," she whispered, as he dropped a soft kiss onto her cheek, almost playful, almost teasing. "But…to know there is a purpose…I will gladly help you."_

"_Thank you, madam," he drawled in her ear, and she stiffened at the feeling of his words and his now-creeping hands. "You are doing me a great…service."_

_By midnight she knew him completely. _

_Half the candles had guttered; the bedframe was creaking, threatening to collapse. They had been at it for hours now._

_She was not in pain anymore. Not physical pain, at least; he had taken care of that. Her soul was still black, though._

_She had whispered the word 'virgin' in his ear mere seconds before he had buried himself in her the first time; he had stifled her scream with a gentle kiss, and now she was used to it, and now she was enjoying herself._

_Her lips, at least, spoke that she was happy, that this was what she had wanted, that she felt loved now, for once. Her eyes, her tar-black soul, told a different story, though. With every thrust he felt that he broke her a little more inside. He loosened her up every time their chests met, shook her free of herself, detaching her spirit from its mires and tethers._

_The night rolled on outside._

_She slept, as he had known she would, and her face was peaceful on the pillow beside him. He amused himself for a while, toying with strands of her fine hair, letting it drift through his fingers; he ran his long fingers down her cheek, over and over, until she was so far gone that her eyes had ceased to move behind her eyelids._

_She was curled into a circle against his body, hands pressed softly to his chest. _

_He stroked her cheek, over and over, lulling away her senses. She relaxed, going limp against the bed sheets and the rising and falling of her breath slowed until it was barely there at all._

_He kissed her then, prying open her mouth with his lips. No more gentle kisses, now; this was a different one. This one had a purpose._

_Ah, there it was. It tasted like black tea and earth, like firelight and old wood and damp. It rose obediently out of her throat and danced on his tongue. There was a taste of velvet here, too, and of metal and lye._

_A virgin soul. He drank her down._

_When he was finished there was almost nothing left of her._

_A curled skeleton with limp finger bones, fine hair spread out over the pillow. He looked down at her with something like a vague fondness as shadows spiraled around him, snatched from the wall and the window alike. His red eyes were shining in the dark. The candles had all died._

_He left her there. Her soul stirred inside him, as if realizing that it was leaving the body behind. But then it settled._

_It was at peace now, at last._

"The police must have had a field day with that one."

"No one would suspect a Phantomhive butler for that."

"And none did. Besides, it was not a murder." Undertaker tilted his head, observing the prince, smiling softly.

"No. It was not." Stolas replied.

_*Please Review! Next Chapter: "Growing Pains" will be up within this month._

_*Please also send your messages to GoodbyeMyHeart, as well, although she will be busy until December._


	8. Chapter 7

***This is definitely a 'mature content' chapter. Please exercise due caution and discretion when reading. **

***This chapter was also 6-months in the making, and I cannot thank GoodbyeMyHeart for her 'magic touch'. Please enjoy!**

**Secret Yearnings of Souls**

_**Chapter 7: "Growing Pains"**_

**Written by: Second Wind & GoodbyeMyHeart**

Undertaker watched Stolas closely, now that they were approaching what the death god believed to be some of the most central, core issues. These were also what he supposed as some of the most uncomfortable discussion topic for the demon prince.

The outcome of which will greatly influences the end result – not to the death sentence which the death god supposed was coming for his charge, but something far greater.

Undertaker gave Stolas some much-needed break before plunging into the next phase of questioning.

"I need to ask you something else." Undertaker said, opening up yet another part of Stolas's long life. The prince nodded.

"Please do."

"What are your…intentions with Ciel Phantomhive?"

Stolas blinked. For the first time he looked truly uncomfortable.

"…I…hadn't thought of keeping him. Not until the very end, when I heard his final words. …My intentions with him?" He looked down at his hands in his lap, twisting over themselves almost nervously. "I would like to keep him with me for as long as I possibly can. I…have an affection for him. We have our similarities."

"You two _are_ similar - in more ways than one. You should talk about yourself with him more."

Stolas glanced at the Death God. It was extremely difficult to read _his _intentions, especially with his eyes hidden so.

"My intentions with him… as for the long-term intentions, I should inform you that I have no plans to use him for …carnal pleasure, if that was what you were wondering."

"Yet, that is what demons instinctively choose to do."

"Not me, I am afraid."

"Yet, that was …sort of what the Earl was hinting at, wasn't it?" Undertaker grinned nastily.

"If you are asking whether or not Ciel was actively trying to take advantage of our master-slave relationship to …make us have sexual relationship, you are wrong. Nor, had I ever tried to seduce him. That is not, and will never be, my intention with him."

"So…what _are_ your intensions?"

"I would like to keep him as a sounding board, a confidante. As for…what _you _were getting at…I find it quite natural for him to be curious about what his body was trying to do, which is to grow up. I had trained him to be as athletic as his schedules and duties allowed. I suspect he wasn't a very physically tough child to begin with. But, the strength of his will more than well made up for it. Although, there were things Ciel was completely unaware of - or, unprepared for." Stolas averted his eyes from Undertaker's face, reluctant to go on.

"You seem to be very hesitant to go further than that from the very beginning."

Stolas frowned. "…I don't believe I have done anything that would be considered a breach of contract."

"A grey area, you could say?" Undertaker grinned.

"Alright, I'll give you that."

"The importance of this proceeding, Sebastian Michaelis, is in the telling of your story, as it happened through your eyes and your own soul. That is the main basis of our decision-making."

"Well, no one can blame Ciel for …acting in the way he had. I mean, before I saved him, he was trapped in that barren cage along with the other…'lambs' for slaughter. But, they weren't just there for the cult members to play with, and the place was riddled with pedophiles. They liked beautiful boys for 'pleasurable' activities and the rest for 'rough play'.

" …Ciel was their most prized possession, both for pleasure and rough play. Their taste for carnage was very high. They bled him deliberately, beat him, whipped him, but…most of the time, they molested and raped him. It was before his puberty hit him, though, so he had no idea what was happening in the bodies of those men, and he had no interest in their mechanism. They just …they would use him for rough play one day and use him for 'pleasure' before he even had a chance to heal.

"It really did not matter to Ciel. He was in pain. His whole body was in pain, and he never had time to rest. So, it is only natural that, when his own body hit puberty, he didn't appreciate it.

"What he hated the most was dealing with it every morning, at first. Then, as he grew even older, the hormones hit him any time of any day. I had to watch him squirm every morning, not knowing what to do. …No, that is not it. He knew exactly what to do, but he hated to do it.

"He …once told me that he felt really filthy, like he had become one of 'them', and hated to do and feel what they were doing to him back then…"

"_Wouldn't you say this is getting rather ridiculous, Young Master?"_

_He spoke with a soft smile on his lips, eyes on the bathtub he was filling._

_Ciel stood in the doorway, arms crossed firmly against his small chest, as if to protect himself from his shame. He gave Stolas a pointed glare._

"_Don't complain," he hissed._

"_Oh, I am hardly complaining, Young Master. It just strikes me as a bit ludicrous that I should have to draw you four baths in one day."_

_Ciel stepped into the warm water, sinking underneath it as hastily as he could. He grabbed the washing-brush from the floor beside the bathtub and turned his back on Stolas._

_Stolas sighed. Ciel never let him help in situations like this. He was embarrassed, the butler assumed, although he had no need to be._

_Ciel scrubbed at himself for a few moments before his working shoulders fell still, and he dropped his head._

"_I can't stand it," he said softly. _

_Stolas cocked his head. _

"_It's…disgusting."_

"_It's natural," Stolas said, voice as gentle as possible. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Every human boy goes through this."_

"_Most human boys," Ciel snapped, "are not like me."_

_Stolas smiled. "That is true."_

_Ciel folded in on himself in the tepid water, hugging his knees to his chest. "I want it gone."_

_Stolas's wry smile turned incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"_

_Ciel turned his head, eyes cold. "I said I want it gone. You're good at healing humans, right? Can't you just get rid of it? It's a nuisance, and it's embarrassing, and…it hurts." His eyes flickered down. "In more ways than one. Can't you just cut it out? Heal me afterwards?"_

_Stolas gave something of a short-lived laugh. "I can't do that, Young Master. As much of a hindrance as it is, it's a part of you. You must learn to deal with it."_

"_I shan't _deal _with it, Sebastian," Ciel growled. "It's a horribly base procedure. I am not a common child. I am thoroughly sick of these symptoms."_

"_There is a way to get rid of them easily, Young Master, if only you'd swallow your pride."_

_Ciel shot him a glare. "If it's so easy," he hissed, "_you _do it."_

_Stolas stiffened. _

"_I'm sorry?"_

_Ciel turned away from him again, letting his body unfold in the bathtub. "Are you deaf? It may as well be an order. When I have a problem, _you _shall deal with it, as you seem so unwilling to just rip this stupidity off of me for good."_

_Stolas made no move. There was a ringing, awkward silence in the washroom for a moment._

_Ciel glanced back at him. "Well? Get on with it."_

_His master's gaze was unwavering._

_Stolas sighed. He slipped his white gloves from his hands and came to the bathtub, kneeling down._

_The water was thick with soap suds. The boy and the butler looked at each other for a long, tense moment, and then Stolas slipped his hand into the bath._

_In mere moments the water was white. Shame hung in the air, red and throbbing._

"I think Ciel half expected me to make more excuses and somehow convince him to let me off the hook. No such luck with me, though…" Stolas smiled. "I …assisted, several times, at his request…I supposed you want to hear me talk about most of it?"

Stolas looked up, meeting the Undertaker's eyes. Seeing that the old Death God had no intention of letting him off the hook, Stolas sighed and continued.

_By this time he was used to the nightmares._

_Time had passed, and they had been occurring with less and less frequency. That was something he could be thankful for, Stolas decided. No matter how much he denied it to himself, hearing Ciel scream sent pangs through him._

_It still gave him a moment of surprise, however, when Ciel's night terrors _did _strike, and the dark, quiet house was suddenly echoing with shrieks. It took a long time for Ciel to come out of it, sometimes: he would rake his fingers through his hair, staring wide-eyed at nothing, unable to realize that he was awake and in bed and safe. _

_Stolas held him until he calmed. Ciel never really remembered this; by the time his breathing had slowed and he was blinking the fright away, Stolas would have laid him down again, hands safely away. He had a façade to maintain, after all._

_Stolas's eyes flew open as the first piercing scream reached his ears._

_Ciel's screams were terrible. They seemed to be wrenched up from the bottom of his throat, flung against the walls. Stolas moved out of bed and unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them hastily as he slipped out of his bedroom._

_He quickened his pace as Ciel's shrieks grew more and more frenzied. A bad one this time, Stolas thought. A very bad one._

_He opened Ciel's half-closed bedroom door with his shoulder. "Young Master—"_

"_GET AWAY!" Ciel was crouched on his bed, eyes wide and lightless, staring through Stolas, and not quite at him. "GET AWAY—"_

_Stolas approached the bed slowly, holding his hands up in a loose defense. "It's me, Young Master—"_

"_I SAID AWAY!" Ciel screeched. His small, shaking hands shot under his pillow, and before Stolas even truly had time to see the entirety of the gun, his master's finger was on the trigger—_

_Crack. Crack._

_The bullets were ice. Stolas heard the bones in his face cracking as the first met his brow, the second the bridge of his nose._

_It was more the shock of it than anything that made him stumble backwards. His vision went dark for a few fluttering moments; the blood in his ears was rushing, world flickering in and out, mind spinning, the sweet taste of metal in his mouth. Stolas's feet moved of their own accord, and he collapsed on the bed beside his master._

_There was blood. Dark, rich red was the first thing he saw, seconds after the bullets first hit, spreading like spilled wine over Ciel's white sheets. The bones of his face were aching, but already beginning to knit themselves back together._

_He heard the dull thud of the gun hitting the bed, and Ciel's hitched and heavy breathing. For a moment, that breathing slowed, and then the boy's gasp thrilled through the room._

"_Oh—oh! Sebastian! Oh—"_

_His master's fingers were small and cool on his face, as Ciel turned Stolas's head; the butler's staccato vision was vaguely aware of the boy's face hovering above him._

"_Oh—God—oh, God, I didn't—I didn't mean—"_

_Stolas tried to say something to soothe away the fear on Ciel's face, but he was not quite to the point of speaking yet. He settled for closing his eyes, and grimacing softly. The feeling of his body healing itself wasn't exactly pleasant._

"_Don't—blood—oh…" Ciel's voice was riddled with fear. Stolas felt his small fingers moving through his black hair, searching for the bullet holes, and pressing there firmly when he found them. The boy's hands were shaking. "Stop—stop bleeding—stop it…"_

_Stolas felt something warm and wet hit his face. Ciel's mismatched eyes were blurred with anxious tears. _

"_Stop bleeding—stop—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"_

_Words came reluctantly to Stolas's tongue. "I'm…perfectly alright, Young Master…"_

_Ciel administered a half-hearted, gentle smack to the side of the butler's face. "Quiet, you! Don't talk! Just—God—"_

_Ciel turned Stolas's head, tremulously pushing his hair aside, staring wide-eyed at the bullet holes. They were shrinking quickly, sending dull, intermittent waves of pain through his skull. _

_Stolas opened his eyes, managing a reassuring smile. "I'm telling you, Young Master—I'll be fine. I was surprised, is all—"_

_Ciel's shaking hands finally released Stolas's head, and moved softly to his face. Their eyes met, and when Ciel seemed sufficiently satisfied that there was light and life in his servant's claret gaze, he breathed a heavy sigh and looked down._

_They remained in that tableau, the boy gently cradling the butler, until the wounds in Stolas's head ceased to bleed, and the ringing in his ears had fallen away. Somewhere in that span of time, Stolas closed his eyes, to ease away the headache that was creeping up on his temples. _

"_Sebastian?" Ciel asked finally, voice low and layered with fear. "You've…stopped bleeding, but…are you really alright? Does…does it hurt?" As if in demonstration his pale fingers touched the now miniscule hole in Stolas's forehead, staining his fingertips with dark blood._

_Stolas smiled wearily. "Just a small headache, Young Master. I will be perfectly fine. It's not as if a few bullets could take me down, you know."_

_Ciel sighed, relieved. He gently moved his legs out from underneath Stolas's head, and quickly stuffed his own pillow in their place. As he stepped off the bed, Stolas moved to sit up, but Ciel turned and pushed him back down._

"_Are you mad? Don't you dare get up." The front of his nightshirt was a wide, flowering stain of blood._

_Stolas's smile transformed into one of incredulity. "My Lord, I'm perfectly fine…"_

"_What did I tell you? Does it have to be an order?" the boy snapped. His eyes demanded nothing short of total obedience. Stolas sighed and settled his head back down, rubbing absently at where the bullets had pierced his skin._

_He closed his eyes. For a while, he heard Ciel moving about; his bare feet made soft rustlings on the carpets. He heard water being drawn and poured, and the gentle sounds of grating cloth. Finally, the familiar sounds of a bath being drawn met Stolas's ears, and he looked up to see Ciel stripping off his bloody nightshirt and holding it aloft in the lamplight of the washroom._

"_So much…" Ciel turned and glanced through the door, the candlelight casting his face and his body into partial shadow._

_Stolas sat up stiffly. "I assure you, Young Master, there is nothing but a headache anymore."_

_Ciel's eyes flickered downward. He nodded once, and turned back to drawing his bath._

_He dropped one more bucketful of water into the bathtub and then stepped back into the dark bedroom, completely unabashed at his own nakedness. "Are you really alright? Can you stand, at least?" His voice was careful, as if he were layering it with tones of his usual arrogance to hide his concern._

_Stolas rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and easily stood from where he'd been lying. Ciel nodded firmly in approval. _

_The butler peeled off his waistcoat. "I will help you bathe, Young Master—"_

_Ciel made a scoffing noise. "You _are _mad. Look at you, you're a right mess, covered in all that blood. Take off your clothes and clean yourself up." He averted his gaze sideways then, and muttered, "You're disgraceful."_

_The boy fair stalked around Stolas, and gave him an unenthusiastic nudge between the shoulder blades toward the washroom._

_Stolas turned his head, at a bit of a loss. "At least allow me to arrange something for _you _to wear, Young Master?"_

_Ciel rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. But hurry it up."_

_He stood impatiently, arms crossed over his pale chest, watching Stolas rifle through his wardrobe. The boy's eyes were ever drawn to the white fabric of Stolas's shirt, dyed a startling crimson; he bit his lip._

_Stolas laid Ciel's clothes out on the part of the bed least touched by his own blood. "Really, Young Master, it's quite alright if you wish to bathe before me—"_

_Ciel scoffed. "Do you think I can stand watching you walk around covered in your own blood? It's horrible!" With these words he pointed firmly to the washroom door, an obvious, silent command._

_Stolas sighed. He closed the washroom door behind him gently._

_It was, in a sense, a literal bloodbath._

_This thought brought a quiet smile to Stolas's face as he looked down at the water he was sitting in. It was a swirling, soapy crimson now. Perhaps it was because his pain had so quickly faded, but he had not realized before just how much one could bleed._

_He was relatively clean now, hair dark and wet and dripping pale pink water into his face. Stolas stood up and stepped out onto the warm wooden floor, glancing back ruefully at the mess he has made._

_Ciel couldn't possibly bathe in here the way it was. The washtub looked like something Elizabeth Bathory would have used, watered blood running down the sides; no. He had to clean it._

_He fed the fire in the stove to warm the water; as his own bath was slipping through the grate in the floor, taking with it all the color of wine, the door opened behind him._

_Stolas glanced back. Ciel stood there, glancing at the emptying tub and at the water warming on the stove. He stepped over the gurgling drain in the floor and stuck his finger gently into the boiling pot on the coil._

"_One bath not enough, then? I told you." Ciel hefted the heavy pot, the thin muscles in his arms straining, and let it fall into the washtub. "Are you feeling up to helping me?"_

_Stolas draped a thick white towel over his master's shoulders when the boy was cleaned of his servant's blood; he stepped back into the bath himself when he was through, unaware of the eyes on his pale, bare, lamplit back. _

_Ciel seemed to be only just noticing the fact that Stolas was naked. The butler had seen _him _naked, before, of course, but Ciel had never glimpsed any of Stolas's skin besides his hands before. He kept himself modest. Ironic, the boy thought, as his gaze traced the demon's body in the dim yellow light._

_Stolas felt his eyes eventually, and turned to him. Ciel was slowly moving his eyes between their bodies, as if comparing._

_Stolas smiled. "Haven't you heard it's rude to stare, Young Master?"_

_Ciel jerked slightly, seeming to come out of a trance, and a blush quickly rose to his face. Without a word he wrapped the towel around himself and left the washroom._

_The butler smiled to himself and began to clean the floor._

_It seemed that Ciel was fairly unconcerned with the fact of his butler's nakedness, so Stolas left the washroom easily to recover his clothes. _

_He found his master sitting by the window, squinting at a book in the dim moonlight. There was weariness in his posture; he seemed on the verge of dozing off right there. At the sound of Stolas's footsteps he looked up._

_Stolas caught a glimpse of the cover of the book: one on anatomy. _

_Ciel shook his head hastily at his butler's amused expression. "I'm curious," he said quickly. "That's all."_

_He stood, balancing the book in his palm, and stepped softly toward Stolas, glancing from the book to the body before him every moment or so. Gently he reached out, and traced Stolas's arm, the soft curve of muscle beneath his skin._

_His soft, cool fingers hesitated on the fine curving veins in Stolas's wrist. "I…for a while I thought you couldn't bleed, you know. But…I suppose…"_

"_In this form I am just as human as you, Young Master. I bleed, I sweat, I breathe." Stolas tilted his head, watching as Ciel's hands danced over his body, mapping the size of his heart, admiring the subtle curvature and beauty of his chest and arms and neck._

_When Ciel's hands drew lower, Stolas grasped them gently to stop their movement. _

"_No need, My Lord," he said softly. "Everything is the same there."_

_Ciel reluctantly obeyed the unspoken favor that his servant asked, and let his pale spidery hands return to his chest. "You wouldn't think it," he said softly. "But…I do suppose you have blood in you. You've got…veins, and nerves, all connected…like…you're nothing supernatural at all."_

_The boy gently laid his head against Stolas's chest, listening to the gentle thump of his heart. "I honestly thought I'd killed you…"_

"_Hardly. It would take much more to do me in."_

_Ciel closed his eyes. The rhythmic beat was soothing, lulling._

"_I'm…glad."_

_They stood there for a few moments. Eventually, slowly, Ciel fell slightly limp against Stolas, and the butler looked down to see the boy asleep._

_He smiled. Gently he scooped his master up in his arms and laid him in his armchair, drawing a blanket from the bed to cover his moonlit body. Ciel slumped into his sleepy position, eyes flickering beneath their lids, lashes long against his skin._

"Touching," Undertaker remarked blandly, smiling.

Stolas gave him a pointed, annoyed glance, a bit miffed at being broken out of his reverie. "I think that was the first time he ever really touched me, or expressed concern for me. And the fact that he was…so comfortable with me…surprised me a bit. If I did not know him better, I would have said he wanted to, and was trying to, get to know me."

"…Well, why should that surprise you?" the Death God interrupted, cocking his head.

Stolas shifted, looking down. "Because. He had an eternity with me."

Undertaker smiled at the prince's words, then raised his index finger as if telling Stolas to pay attention. "But, as you said to me earlier, _he _did not know that you were planning on keeping him in the first place."

Stolas looked down, his unreadable eyes resting on his threaded fingers upon his lap. He really would give up a lot of (whatever is left of his) things and privileges without regret to have Ciel Phantomhive with him, to hold him in his arms and stare into those beautiful blue orbs, one more time, and whisper those three, no, four forbidden words into his ear.

Undertaker decided to give the younger man a break by proceeding. "Were you surprised, that he saw you as more than merely a wolf in a sheep's disguise?"

"I was more surprised by the fact that he regarded me so highly. I…in my lifetime, in the service of all my other masters, I was never…cared for. Ciel clung to me. He may not have even realized how much he did so…it was as if I were the only safe thing in the world, as if…"

Stolas bit his lip. The memories were playing clearly in his eyes; something like an old affection, dusty and nostalgic, was rising in his face. Undertaker watched the play from beneath his silver hair, curious, tapping a long-nailed finger against his high cheekbone.

_The boy fell ill._

_Whether it was from overwork, lack of sleep, his growing body, or a combination of all three Sebastian was not sure. What he was sure of was that Ciel was sleeping only fitfully now, that his normally pallid cheeks were often flushed with red, that he coughed in spasms and refused to eat. The butler found himself concerned._

_At times his master was thrown into a fit of passion from the slightest incident; at other times he was delirious, caught in half-waking nightmares that were almost worse than his normal night terrors._

_Despite the fact that Ciel's sufferings were like sweet manna to Sebastian, their sweetness was tinged bitter. He did not like seeing the boy in pain, no matter how much he denied it to himself._

_Eventually he called the doctor in, when it came to the point that Ciel could no longer rise from his bed without being thrown into fits of racking coughs. His fever was like a glow upon his face, a scarlet halo; his skin burned._

_The doctor said that it was asthma, and that it was only being made worse by a cold Ciel had contracted. Sebastian listened to the doctor's stubborn, whispered rebukes—"he is a boy, he should not be so overworked, and you, as his servant, should know better"— in silence. He had eyes and ears only for his master, lying still and quiet in his bed; he was attentive for the slightest movement, the smallest indication that he was conscious._

_When the physician had calmed down, and packed his tools and was preparing to leave, Sebastian asked him in soft tones what could be done about Ciel's situation, the uncomfortable fact of his puberty. The doctor shrugged. He said that the boy was mature in mind and was becoming mature in body, and saw no reason that he could not have a woman to take care of his "problems". Hired help, in other words, he said. He left with only a wayward glance at the butler._

"_Are you an idiot?"_

_Ciel's voice was hoarse and thin. His glare was deadly._

_Sebastian smiled, albeit a bit sheepishly. "Forgive me, Young Master. I am merely repeating the suggestions of the good doctor—"_

"_Good doctor. Ha." Ciel crossed his arms over his chest—thinner now, Sebastian had noticed, and his ribs showed from his loss of appetite, his labored breathing—and glanced sideways. "If I thought the idea of doing it myself was base, calling in someone else to do it—! Well."_

"_Well then, Young Master? Do you see an alternative?"_

_Sebastian could not quite tell if the sudden flush on Ciel's face was from his fever or from his emotions._

"_At least rid me of the nightmares," Ciel said, after much wordless stammering. "Wake me up before they start. I cannot stand seeing it all again—not now."_

_He looked at Sebastian then._

_Sebastian tilted his head. "Young Master, I have reason to believe that you are falling into depression. If there is anything I can do to help you—"_

_Ciel laughed, suddenly, entirely unexpectedly. _

"_Do not fool yourself, demon." His fever flush had dropped from his face. "Do you think I am unaware of what is happening? That I am unaware of this situation? Do not think I am ignorant. This is all a game to you. It's all a game to me." _

_He held Sebastian's gaze, unwavering. _

"_You are only humoring me. This is all a charade. Do you think I cannot see that? We may as well be playing cards, moving chess pieces about a board—do you think I can't see it? _

"_You are nearly everything that I will never be, everything I wish to be, everything that I do not have, or have had and lost. You are the reason I am alive and the reason I will die so young. _

"_We just trip along, don't we—isn't that all we've done? But I regret nothing. I knew full well what I was getting into. But this—" _

_And here the boy gestured to his own body, thin, haggard, only barely keeping itself upright— "if this body is not mine, Sebastian, if it and my soul and all of me is yours already, I see no reason that I should have to deal with it, and the process it is going through. I do not need this. I don't…I don't."_

_He fell silent._

_Sebastian was only slightly dumbfounded by this speech. Something the boy had said was clinging in his mind. _

"_What do you mean when you say that? That I am everything you never will be, everything…?"_

_Ciel looked down. At this point he seemed to be beyond looking his butler in the eye._

"_You are…my mother and father, my guardian, my teacher, confidante, ruler, owner, toy, pet, amusement, pawn, weapon, butler, savior…death…you…"_

_He took a breath._

"_You are my friend."_

_Sebastian tilted his head. "And then what are you…for me?"_

_Ciel lifted his head._

"_I am temporary," he said softly. "I am…your plaything. I am only permanent in that I am yours."_

Undertaker smiled softly, out of nothing but curious sympathy, and observed the prince subvertly. "How self-destructive," he said softly. "And, I think, there was one more thing he forgot to claim as his own title…he thought himself the object of your desire. Hmm?"

Stolas closed his eyes.

"_You cannot love me. Can you?"_

_Sebastian looked down. "No," he said. "I cannot."_

_Ciel's eyes were piercing, even though their gaze was broken. "Then answer me this. What do you think I need most right now?"_

"_Young Master, if, in some way, you are offering yourself to me—I am tempted, I am flattered. But you are in no way ready for what you are requesting."_

"_You have helped me before. I see no reason you cannot again. And you are overstepping no boundaries—it is not an act of love." Ciel pressed his hands flat to the bed. "Can you not even kiss me?"_

"_I could. But not deeply." Sebastian shifted, slightly uncomfortable. "It…would tempt me too far. That sort of kiss I shall reserve for…the very end."_

_Ciel understood. The truth was plain on his face._

"_You feel things for me, don't you?" he said, an unexpected intelligence pervading his childish voice. "Things you shouldn't."_

"_That is true." Sebastian smiled softly. "And it is rare for such a thing to occur—but rare things happen for good reasons. Perhaps, if you were older…but I must refuse, Young Master."_

_Ciel was quiet for a while, drumming his fingers against his linen sheets. He watched Sebastian's face, traced every aspect of it, as he had the demon's body in the washroom that night not so long ago. _

"_For this moment only," Ciel said finally, "I relinquish control over you. Do whatever you feel is appropriate. If you decide it is best for me to suffer…so be it."_

_For a long, long moment neither boy nor butler moved; but finally a small smile curled across Sebastian's lips. His fingers reached up, and gently popped open a button on his waistcoat._

"_Young Master," he said, "this is the most vulnerable I have ever seen you."_

_He spoke so, low and soothing, as his black and white uniform slowly came off; Ciel watched with inexpressive eyes, alert to his words._

"_Do you remember that, at one point, you never allowed anyone but me to touch you?" Sebastian's waistcoat slid to the floor, and then his gloves, his tie. His shirt slipped from his shoulders and left them bare and pale and curving soft._

_Slowly Ciel pulled his comforter up to his face, hiding his mouth from view. His eyes were wide. _

_Sebastian was, at once, naked and unashamed before him, as if it were the most natural state in the world._

_He came softly to his master, and lifted up the sheets. Ciel lay down slowly, warily, eyes always on Sebastian._

_Cool white knees met cool white hips as the butler slid in to straddle the boy; Ciel clutched absently at the sheets as something warm began to stir inside his stomach._

_Sebastian's deft, spidery fingers opened Ciel's nightshirt, let it fall away and expose the child completely. Ciel stiffened as Sebastian's eyes fell on his body._

_The boy closed his eyes as Sebastian's soft fingertips touched the hinge of his jaw. They traveled ever downward, pressing gently, gaining a feel for his small body. Ciel twisted his lips as if to keep from crying out as the demon's hands landed everywhere sensitive, everywhere that reacted even the smallest bit._

"_I need to hear you," Sebastian whispered softly. _

_Ciel released a deep breath, and with it came the end of something like a moan. His knuckles were white as they clutched at the linens._

"_There is no need for embarrassment," Sebastian cooed, bending down, letting his head rest against his master's. They both closed their eyes, lashes mingling, hair twisting around each other. _

_Sebastian's hands swept, down Ciel's chest, up his sides, trailing in the valleys of his ribs, hovering over the pink buds of his nipples. The boy gasped, let out another breathless moan, and his knees bent in on themselves, almost as if in warning._

"_You are very tense, My Lord," Sebastian said softly. Gently he turned Ciel over onto his stomach, and began to push against the knot of muscle between his master's shoulderblades._

"_Whatever you feel—necessary." Ciel practically choked the last word. He seemed to be fighting his own body's desires, still raking at the bed-sheets._

_After a while he relaxed, soothed by the motion of Sebastian's hands easing away the stress._

_Suddenly, however, and very suddenly, the demon's touch became sensual again, and that warm tightness in Ciel's stomach awoke again. Ciel squeezed his eyes shut, hips aching to move, and let a moan rattle in his throat._

_Again he was turned to meet the face of his servant. Sebastian smiled, and gently cupped the boy's face in his hands. "Well then, Young Master…"_

_He placed a soft, teasing kiss on Ciel's forehead. Ciel's breathing was labored, and for a moment Sebastian worried that his asthma might interrupt them, but the boy's breath was even, if quick._

_They continued in that way, kisses placed where they received reaction, sighs echoing with moans as the demon learned his master's body. Just as Sebastian's touch returned to Ciel's chest the boy suddenly gave a buck with his hips, and his legs spread apart, knocking Sebastian off balance._

_He fell flat onto the boy, and suddenly found himself the object of a hurried embrace. Ciel's arms were wrapped around his neck, their heads resting beside one another._

_Locked into one another as they were, Sebastian kissed the boy's neck, and was rewarded with a sigh, and a movement of Ciel's hands through his hair. The butler reached up and removed one of Ciel's hands, drawing it downward to the boy's inner thigh._

_Ciel flinched visibly. His eyes opened. "No," he muttered, a half-hearted rejection of what he knew he was supposed to do._

"_There is no reason for shame," Sebastian purred reassuringly. _

_Kisses, downward; soft touch, gentle coaxing, and Sebastian guided Ciel's hand to where it needed to be._

_The demon kept his eyes and lips and attention on his master's legs. He would let the boy learn to do it himself. He whispered, over and over, into the pulse of the veins in Ciel's limbs: "Be shameless. Shameless."_

_Shameless. Shameless. The boy learned, and the butler smiled, and when it was through he held his master loosely to his chest, breathing in that scent of sex._

"…Just how often did this sort of situation occur?" Undertaker asked, watching as Stolas slowly came back to himself, and his eyes again turned back to their chocolate brown irises.

"Only a few more times, and in short intervals. He accepted the fact that he couldn't get away from this, and that I was not going to coax him into offering himself to me again. Not sexually. Although, the pure scent of Ciel's arousal and …everything else was very delicious."

"So, you would accept his _offer_ if he really had been older?"

"I would consider, but… not from Ciel Phantomhive. I do not see him in that way. Although I …lovehim, and I do mean _all _of him, my love for him is not …something that can be expressed entirely by having sex with him. I can get someone else very easily, if it was just sex I need."

"Why did you have to be naked?" Undertaker rested his chin in his hand.

"I was Ciel's object of desire, and Ciel was indeed _mine_, and I was determined to give him all of me that I felt right to give him. I did not want to leave any physical barriers in between us. Besides, being a demon, it was actually rather …empowering, for the lack of a better expression, to know that he was thinking about me, my body, my smell, and remembering the way I touched him, talked to him, and …the message I was giving him, while he …_grew up_."

Undertaker raised his eyebrows, and said nothing. Stolas quickly clarified.

"I only allowed him to touch the neutral parts of my own body. He was so small in size, that he couldn't reach much far down my body anyways. Anything more would be too tempting, and I did give him variations in positions, just to help make Ciel feel comfortable with himself."

"Very well." Undertaker said, satisfied – on this issue, at least – with what was given.

*Please post your review comments! PMs are also greatly encouraged!

*Like the previous chapter, these scenes were written almost entirely by GoodbyeMyHeart (I just supplied the ideas and a rough draft), so PLEASE also give her your personal comments, opinions, and impressions.

*Some of the ideas for this chapter, such as Ciel possessing a gun beneath his pillows was taken from the comic series.

*For those who have waited so long for the Seb/Ciel intimate moments, please bear with us for not actually allowing them to 'cross the line', so to speak. You will understand the reasons in future chapters.


	9. Chapter 8i Watching the Scales Tilt

*Hello, fellow Kuroshitsuji fans! …Yes, I am very much aware that this has been a 'very long' delay in updating, but life sure has a way of throwing ones nasty surprise after another… I beg you, please forgive me. At least the exam season is finally over, and all the kids are in schools now… Phew. Of course, come May, they will have their mid-term exam season, so my schedules will start to fill up again pretty soon.

*For all fans of Ciel Phantomhive, this chapter is a mind candy, because, as the title suggests, it's all about Ciel Phantomhive.

*I have been re-reading the comments and reviews recently, and I am once again extremely honored to have received such warm support regarding this story. This chapter has also taken about 7 months in the making, and the next chapter much longer, although I already have it mostly typed.

*As always, reviews are welcomed with enthusiasm, and please also send your compliments to GoodbyeMyHeart, for she has written very powerful segments in this chapter, as well. You will most likely be able to tell which part she has written by her superb writing skills. Especially by the way she handles difficult scenes cleanly.

*The latest source of inspiration (for me, at least…): "Soon, You'll Go" by Howard Jones.

*Please also be noted that this is the 'improved' version of the original post dated April12th.

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"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 8i: Watching the Scales Tilt - CIEL

Written by: GoodbyeMyHeart & Second Wind

_En Route Lucifer's Palace_

_Underworld_

_7months After the Disappearance of Prince Stolas: (7 Days in the human world)_

The first thing Ciel Phantomhive became aware of was the feeling of his limbs swinging rhythmically in the air. Next came the distinct, putrid smell he had been subjected to ever since… since…

"Where am I?" The late Earl of Phantomhive asked as he tried to clear the cobwebs in his mind.

A moment later, Ciel regretted opening his mouth as a flood of memories – of the sound, the sight, and the smell of his ruined room, the mutilated corpses of felled beasts and bloodied black raven feathers littering the massive, once-glorious palace hallways that were made of black and green marble. – And the laughing faces of his captors as they groped, marveled at, and ridiculed Ciel when he fought them.

A deep growl greeted Ciel's sensitive ears from behind, followed by a gust of the same, putrid breath he remembered coming from Cerberus. That was when he realized that he was not just bound, but he was also hanging in the air by the very same rope that bound him - the end of which was tied to one of Cerberus' massive lower fangs.

Ciel quickly took notes on his current situation and surrounding: he was captured, by who he assumed were Lady Echidna and her son Cerberus, along with what remained of the great army that have destroyed Prince Stolas's palace.

Ciel was dismayed, however, to see that he was now blind-folded and had his ankles, shoulders and arms bound tight by a rope made of some unknown plant. Ciel wouldn't be surprised in the least if the ropes were poisoned.

Something made his skin itch and burn, and he thought about it until he came to the conclusion that it was Cerberus's saliva drenching his entire body and hair. He shuddered as he shook his head. A few droplets flew out of his teal strands to fall on the cracked and dry ground thirty feet below. Cerberus growled in anger, and clamped down his upper jaw, which made a deafening noise and made Ciel's body bounce with its force.

"Is the runt giving you trouble, _son_?" A familiar and dreaded voice of Echidna reached Ciel's ringing ears. The sick, sweet tone of her voice made Ciel's skin crawl further. In response, Cerberus swung his massive head roughly from side to side. The force of this movement proved too much for Ciel to handle, and his world once again turned pitch black.

What woke Ciel next was the impact of his whole body hitting the hard, freezing-cold marble floor of an immaculately clean building. He tried his best to take note of his surroundings even though he felt extremely tired and sore and vulnerable. He shivered in the cold air of the room. His vision had not yet returned fully, however, and he closed his eyes again in an effort to stop the vertigo.

All the discomfort Ciel was feeling came to a sudden screeching halt, however, when he heard Echidna slither away from him, with the words: "He is_ all yours_, Your Majesty."

It did not take more than a few moments for Ciel to figure out who Echidna was referring to, and the realization made him hold his breath. He shook off the terror his survival instinct began stirring within him.

It was just like before, when Ciel was first faced with Sebastian. Ciel tapped into his rich reserve of 'anger' and channeled it into his conscious mind. Anger was the best defense Ciel believed he now had, and after what he was forced to see and endure in Sebastian's palace, he had more than enough of it to keep everything else out of his mind.

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Ciel POV: Present

"What is your name, boy?" The devil asks, looking down at me, eyes mere dark rubies in his face.

"Ciel Phantomhive," I say.

This figure, this silhouette, is not so terrible. Sebastian scared me more, the first time I saw him. 'I have no reason to be afraid', I whisper to myself. 'And I am proud of my name'.

''Ah...Phantomhive." He smiles, his white fangs showing. "Your family is well-known on the earth above us. One could say you are one of the more...interesting groups of humans."  
"Flattery will get you nowhere, sir." I say coolly, offering him a sweet smile. His own smile quickly deepens into a snarl.

"Well, let us see if you will still be talking tough after I am through with _this_." Lucifer says mockingly as he grabs my head in both his palms.

The next moment, I am hit with an incredibly strong current of pain which kept getting worse and worse. I am nowhere prepared for this onslaught. It feels as though someone plied my head open with a pitchfork and a claw bar, then stuck his hand inside my brains and turning them into ground beef.

Then, I feel it. Telepathy.

And I realized what was happening, and how.

Lucifer – the king of Fallen Angels – could scan my memories the way Angela / Ash had done before. Not only that, but I can also feel something being 'pulled out' of my memories like a bundle of wool being yowled into a cord.

An unpleasant recollection makes its way into my consciousness: When Madam Red died, Grell Sutcliffe made us all watch the 'Cinematic Record' – complete with her narration. Then, when Angela kidnapped me and took me hostage inside Death God Library, she tried to eradicate Sebastian's presence from my memory by pulling out my cinematic records.

What if Lucifer somehow acquired the ability to extract it out of my own memory without ever entering the Death God Library to read the book himself?? Then, a realization struck me. 'My emotions and feelings for Sebastian will be laid out in the open for Lucifer to see. _Along with_ my memories of what I have seen him do – for me.'

A fresh current of fear overtook me, and all at once, I felt weak. I know what Lucifer is doing, and why. This is what he wanted me 'alive' for. I am not just a hostage or a bait to lure Sebastian back into the Underworld. I am a_ liability_. 'Sebastian!' I scream inside my head, even though I knew he could not hear me while he is still placed in protective custody. I cannot help it, and I cannot stop what Lucifer is doing to me, either. 'Sebastian, _RUN_!'

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_Ciel POV - Recollection_

"_I never knew what my parents – well, more like what my father, and the rest of the Earl of Phantomhives – did for a living. All I knew was that my father, Vincent Phantomhive, was a loving father, an honest man, and an Earl who all other Earls put a certain distance from. He also was an incredibly busy man, whose schedules kept him away from his son for far too long. _

_My father also loved to create things with his own hands, such as toy soldiers and toy ships with animals and people on them. He had received some unwanted attention when he steadfastly refused to make a model slave ship for another Earl once – sighting inappropriateness since the practice of slavery was long outlawed in England through orders issued by the royal family, and was dying out worldwide, as well. _

_People like my father never let anyone get too close, yet never refused company of anyone who wished to have a word with him. He was compassionate and supportive when he could afford to be. It was not that money was tight – which I, as the youngest of the Phantomhives, did not understand until much later in my years – around nine, to be exact – where my family's 'other fortunes' came from and how. It was still 2 years later that I 'fully' understood what 'being an Earl of Phantomhive' exactly meant. _

_I always was a happy smiling kid, because my parents were always smiling and happy whenever they were with me. I then had Elizabeth – my fiancée, to keep my spirit up. She was also a very good distraction from all things 'unpleasant' happening around me, and the rest of the family. _

_My father was not the one who was responsible for earning the wretched nickname: 'Queen's Watch Dog'. I was solely responsible for that one. Nope, my father was way too much of a gentleman and far too caring to be truly 'feared' by those who despised the whole Phantomhive family legacy. That was partly why he had died in such a manner, and why he had not told anyone but to Tanaka the fate he suspected was awaiting him._

…_I should have known, in hindsight, what was happening around me a bit more, because I was becoming more and more isolated as I grew older. I never had friends my age other than Elizabeth Middleford, and she was no friend of mine. She was my betrothed; my future wife. She loved all things cute and pretty, and was always full of energy. She loved me as a child would, and we grew up being told we would be together forever, because we were destined to be married and have family of our own just like my parents had. _

…_Had I paid closer attention to my late aunt: Angelina or 'Madam Red', maybe I could have done something about her. But, as is with the trend running in my cursed family, no one really ended up happy and grew to an old age. For, 'living long' and 'happily ever after' were the two things that were always out of reach. If you decided to be the Earl of Phantomhive, there really was no turning back, because the moment you have taken that title, you are forfeiting these two things which most people try their hardest not to lose. Anyone in a right mind would think you insane to let these things slip through your fingers willingly._

_I feel truly terrible about Elizabeth Middleford. She had been born into the wrong family, and at a wrong time. Had she been born after I was dead, or even half her age apart – say either seven or six years apart from me, she would not have been so easily chosen as my fiancée. The 'Ciel Phantomhive' who existed before 'the black birthday' (as I call it,) would have still made her happy, or as happy as she could be, while still being married to the last Earl of cursed Phantomhive family. _

_I seriously doubt the sanity of those who could even think about letting that bundle of joy, warmth, love, and compassion be named after one of our Queens, THEN have her tainted through her engagement to me: 'Queen's Watch Dog'. There is also the fact that we were related by blood. I still have difficulty making peace about this subject. _

_I hope that, someday soon, Elizabeth will forget all about me and put this dark stain in her life behind her. I also hope that she will soon find someone who would actually love her, and treat her the way she deserves to be treated. I was way too rude to her, but I had to be, because I did not belong to her. Sebastian was the only one to whom I belonged; from that moment when I signed my soul away to him. ...As strange as it may sound to an outsider, I never once regretted it._

_Sebastian – my loyal butler foremost, but who in reality was also a perfection-embodied, cat-loving, dog-hating, and violin-loving, powerful demon. 'Sebastian Michaelis' – without whom I would have been nothing… He once told me that this 'inbreeding' of sort was a common practice among nobles, but I still had to question the wisdom behind such a practice. Sebastian agreed with me on this, though, saying that he would not think about getting any mate or a bride from his own 'clan'. __But, I remember spewing my tea across the table when Sebastian continued on to say that his 'mate' does not necessarily need to be a female. His brides, however, will need to be, so that he could have an heir to the 'title' he himself held in the Underworld Society – whatever it is. _

_This conversation probably took place rather early on during our first year of the contract. Of course, he never told me about the finer details. I figure it is something of an importance, considering how powerful he can be – when he chooses to be._

_My 'isolation' from the rest of England's child population was also due to the fact that I never went to school. I did not know what schools were until I actually saw one, and realized why none of my parents' acquaintances mentioned the word when I asked to be let into one, and I was adamantly refused. _

_My father and I argued for a very long time, but one night he came into my room and explained to me that schools were far too dangerous for someone like me. Anyone can come into the school I go to and kidnap me, or hurt me, or both. Besides, I did not need to go, since any and all teachings I will be needing while I am still a child will be given by private tutors who are far more educated than any ordinary school teachers were. _

_It was not really the words he was speaking so much as the expression on his face as he said these words that shut me up. He … I had never seen him look so utterly sad and devoid of all the joy he usually let fill his face. I never questioned him again about going to any school, and quietly took lessons from some of world's finest scholars, instead. _

_Of course, this benefitted me more than I could ever hope for, because I never knew exactly how advanced I was in my studies. I just took in as much knowledge as I could and wanted. I had dreamt of becoming an artist, an architect, an archeologist, an adventurer, a master chess player, and even a diplomat. _

_How naïve and wrong I had been back then, to really believe that one's dreams could be realized if only one studied and worked hard enough for it. This foolish thought was also fueled by my family's fortune. I could go on any expedition that I desire, to found researches into any number of subjects I desired to delve into, and sponsor any project that I cared about. I believed that I could literally change the world with my influence, intellect, and in the years following – my experiences. _

_Little did I know that I would be 'changing the world' only by staying home and doing what my dad did behind everyone's back, and by running a confectionary as well as a toy company – with the help of a demon, of all things - only because I would not be getting any from my own parents like any other child my age would be. _

_Every time kids ran squeaking to the door of a Fun Tom Toys & Confectionary store pulling their brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles with them to the glass display cases filled with the toys and sweets I ordered to have made and sold for their enjoyment, I either closed my eyes and gone on, or looked away, or hurried my pace, or – once, grabbed Sebastian's forearm and pulled him along to walk beside me instead of behind me. Sebastian knew it all, of course, what sting I was so quietly suffering. He even had that rare compassionate look on his face. _

_Sebastian would sometimes show genuine kindness that he never realized he was showing. It could be a passing caress on the back of my hand, or a hand placed at the small of my back, or an unnecessary stop to fix my shoelaces, or an offer to bake me the best tart he had ever baked before. I drew the line when he once put me on his shoulders to let me watch a magic trick by a street magician. But, I never scolded him for it. _

_In hind sight, I should have just thanked him, for any genuine act of kindness is a very difficult thing to achieve for demons. I knew that I had been extremely lucky to have had him, and not any other demon as a contractor. …I just could not show him my appreciation, because deep down, our contract was our ultimate bond, and those hands which were quite beautiful without the groves - would be the ones that will someday end my life. – And I expected it to come sooner than even Sebastian himself suspected. I just hoped that he understood where I was coming from, and what I was really feeling inside. _

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Present Time

"Call Lilith, then have the elder council assembled in the conference room within the next 3 days." Lucifer ordered, stopping the progression of the records and letting the reels float around in the air, awaiting further command.

The guards who had been standing alert moved at once, secretly relieved to leave the room. The look in Lucifer's burning eyes and the slight trembling of his hands scared them more than anything else.

"What else have you _done_??" Lucifer asked the still image of a smirking Prince Stolas. A smirking Stolas was something he himself has never seen before for obvious reasons. He wondered what else he has never seen in his pet raven, and felt a stirring of something akin to jealousy. He caught himself before it showed on his face, however, and berated himself for his own vulnerability.

The last thing Lucifer wanted to do was to admit to his own less-than-desirable emotions, for demons should not feel human emotions. Another thing he also struggled to come to terms with was what he himself had been, and what he had lost since his 'fall' from grace. Even less desirable was to dwell on his glorified 'brother' up in the heavens, and what the arch angel must be thinking about his fallen brother.

A big part of the reason for why Lucifer chose to enslave Stolas in the way he currently had was because Stolas possessed an inherent beauty which no other demon or a fallen angel could ever hope to match. Lucifer never wanted to lose Stolas, and especially not to this puny human child – regardless of how precious the boy's soul is.

Taking a gulp of the blood-wine from his goblet, Lucifer gritted his fangs and restarted the cinematic record.

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_Ciel POV_

_I did not know, and I still do not know, just what made 'them' decide to come after us on my birthday of all days, but they did. It was after a day of one cerebration after another. I had gone to Lizzy's house for the birthday party she threw for me, and which my parents kept a secret from me. I was sent home, stuffed full of food and cake up to my neck, and a coach full of birthday gifts, and a handful of greeting cards. My mother was smiling, and my father was waiting at home due to some paperwork he had to finish for the 'Queen's business' and Tanaka was also in high spirits as he drove the carriage home. _

…_Sebastian told me, after some deep-searching around, that it had been at that time that 'they' snuck into the premises. They must have been scouting for the perfect timing for attack, and the perfect place to hide. _

_Sebastian said that the investigators had found a small heap of cigarette butts and cigar ashes in a corner near the boathouse, and a trace of scuffmarks left by a shoe on a branch right outside my bedroom window. They also must have staked the manor from every corner of every inch, because they knew exactly where the servants' entrance was, how many employee was inside the manor at all times, where the maids hung the laundered clothes, and even where the gardener stashed the fertilizers._

_They had apparently forced the lock of the Servant's Entrance when they came in, and murdered all the employee who were out-gunned at least five to one, beat the gardener to the ground by one of the gardening shears before literally cutting his throat with it. They caught the maids running around the manor screaming for the Earl of Phantomhive to run for safety. I do not know why, but I think he either was too oblivious to the goings-on in the servant's quarters and the kitchen, or that he was already dead. I just do not know._

_Not only that, but they had the perfect leader of the game - whether or not they were aware of 'her' presence in the manor - in the form of Angela / Ash who by then had complete control of the Queen - which I never knew about until I confronted her inside the Death God Library._

_I had fallen into a deep sleep inside the coach with exhaustion. Then, sometime after I began living in the newly-rebuilt manor with Sebastian, Tanaka told me that he was the one who had carried me inside the manor on that fateful day. Apparently, he left me sleeping over the couch, so that he could go and look for my parents who would be sleeping beside me, for he was supposed to read to me until I fall asleep._

_No one came back for me until I awoke – to the house bursting full of flames. Tanaka was in the hallway, trying to – as Tanaka himself recalled, warn me of the danger, but at the same time trying to lead 'them' away from my bedroom. It was no use, though, because they knew where I was sleeping. I made it to the rooms where my parents had their 'private' things, including their master bedroom. _

_I was gasping not just from the exertion, but also from inhaling smoke. It had been a while since I had an asthma attack, and I was still afraid of its recurrence. I burst open the door, calling for my parents. …And, I saw them. Or, what was left of them – slumped in a chair, with that cursed angel standing over them – with a hand still dripping their red blood. …Of course, I did not remember this particular part until I went to Paris with Sebastian, but …well, I was too late, either way, to see them before they were murdered. I wish that I had been there before the were turned into that disgusting creation of the crazed angel._

_I think I ran out of the room to call for anyone who was still alive besides me. I opened every door and found my Sebastian, the dog I mean, whose body was carelessly discarded in a supply closet. I remember getting down on my knees on the carpeted floor, and touching his black fur, but was startled into running again when my hands came away bloody._

_I bumped into Tanaka just before he was stubbed in his hip and shoulder, and screamed for me to 'run'. This was no use, either, for I was immediately scooped up by at least three burly men, and was dragged away screaming into the waiting coach. I caught a glimpse of the burning manor as I was driven off of the premises, and I remember everything burning red, and the flames were 'dancing' almost in their frenzy to consume what I treasured and turned my world – or the world as I once knew it – into a pile of ashes and rubbles._

_From there, everything changed for me, and the long, painful and difficult journey called 'the making of Earl Phantomhive: Ciel Phantomhive' began. Once a loved, respected, adored, and even highly-praised, pristine noble child of ten years, was quickly transformed into a filthy, hated, humiliated, used, abused, and violated rag doll, whose only purpose in life was to become an endless source of entertainment – in less than a month_

_I learned a whole lot about myself and the world surrounding me – in that one month period. I learned that I was absolutely nothing without the protection afforded to me by my parents, and that no one cared how filthy, hungry, hurt, or sick I became because I was no longer afforded the presence of the maids of the Phatnomhive manor and the ever-loyal Tanaka. I was nothing but a property – to those who traded me with gold coins, had their way with me regardless of however much I begged them not to ...do what they did to me. If anything, they seemed to enjoy it when I begged or screamed. So, over time, I gradually stopped reacting. _

_As days became weeks, I gradually realized my hopes and wishes were dying their respective slow death. So, after 3 weeks of pleading, screaming, crying, and yes, praying without receiving a single sign of anyone out looking for me, or trying to save me from the hands of my tormentors, I began to change and change rapidly. The despair I felt changed to anger and frustration. Hunger pains became a constant companion, and the mean laughter and the repeated violation of my body numbed the other pains I stopped allowing myself to feel. My eyes became dull, and my body weakened to the point when I could no longer walk on my own. _

_So, after the first 3 weeks of torture, I was finally sold to the occultists who wanted a child for their 'ritual' purposes. I watched the exchange between my captors and the occultists from my vantage point inside the cage. I noticed that there had been much less number of gold coins this time. I must not have looked so appealing by then. I was just a shell of my former self, especially with my deteriorating health. _

_I was practically half-dead by the time they placed me upon that alter and branded me with that cursed symbol. Oh boy, that thing surely took the cake over any other pain I ever felt. I …the degree of fear I felt was also above anything I felt besides that time when I found my parents dead. …My own screams deafened me. They really seemed to enjoy watching my tear-streaked face and the overall suffering. _

_However, nothing – and I do mean absolutely nothing, changed me more than the moment that cursed dagger pierced my body. In that moment, I denied the existence – the very idea – of 'God'. Well, at least the idea that God, along with those residing in the heavens above, were there to love and protect the good and the innocent. ...As I felt the blade go deep into my chest, and I watched my blood spurt into the air like a damn fountain, I cursed God. I only had one wish: KILL THEM ALL. _

…_And, from out of the blackness that enveloped my dying body and fading consciousness, a pair of burning crimson eyes opened, and the demon spoke to me. He sounded somewhat puzzled, but undoubtedly amused. "Oh. What a small master you are."_

…_I was in such an awe of those eyes. I knew I should have been afraid, but I was not. I was rather …entranced. I saw it as the proverbial 'Spider's Thread', and I took it. If he hadn't said 'small master', I would not have noticed that he meant 'me', specifically._

_It took me a bit of time to realize that my body had stopped bleeding, and that most of the pain was gone. Before I 'signed' the contract, I was treated to the most grotesque, as well as the bloodiest show I ever imagined I would see. _

_My mind was well beyond comprehension as I watched the demon literally kill and devour the occultists in front of my eyes. I was also treated to their screams of pain, agony at having their limbs torn apart, their throats cut wide open, bones and sinews shining white amongst the dark red of their mangled flesh. And I am not even mentioning their scattered internal organs soiling the floor. Blood and gore and discarded bones flew everywhere, and in the midst of the bloodbath, still the demon remained mostly spotless._

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Present Time

"Hmmm… Interesting." Lucifer said to himself as he watched his favorite raven fight gracefully within the confinement of the auditorium. This was Stolas he was used to seeing in action. In the millennium-long period, during which the demon prince has spent doing nothing but fighting for his life in the fighting ring he had been thrown into as part of his punishment, Lucifer has kept a very close eye on the troubled raven's progress. To Lucifer, Stolas was a project of sort. He wanted to recreate Stolas from scratch, to shape him into however Lucifer himself desired. However, judging by the boy's memories, it seemed that some of his plans have backfired on him.

Lucifer rewinded the record reel to watch the scenes of battle once again, studying every moment of Stolas's images in order to gain a deeper understanding of how the contract had been formed. The level of wrath that Stolas must have felt upon coming to his own conclusion about what that particular summoning was for, and who 'the sacrificial lamb' that was offered to him truly was, must have been beyond any human's ability to comprehend.

It was very clear to Lucifer that the cult group had severely underestimated Stolas, as well as the 'lamb' they offered for the raven prince's 'services'. Stolas's hatred was aimed at that group of pathetic adults instantly. Lucifer could feel the force of Stolas's hatred even through the boy's cinematic record. Stolas had no intention of ever serving for such a pile of human trash.

Lucifer took a deeper breath, intrigued by the fact that he was sensing his pet raven's thoughts as clearly as if he had the demon right in front of him. – Yes, '_Trash'_, was all that they meant to Stolas. But the boy… The boy had the spark. The kind which Stolas had never seen before in a human being. 'Therefore', Stolas had decided, 'this child is worthy of my service'. Lucifer snickered.

The blood bath - literally - that had been left in their wake was a pure result of the demon expressing himself. They apparently hadn't tasted very good, but at the very least, he had his last big meal before truly entering servitude for Ciel. Lucifer had to give Ciel credit. The boy calmly watched as Stolas - still in his fully demonic attire - ate the flesh and drank the blood from his 'prey' that literally scattered the auditorium until he was nearly bursting.

Lucifer also saw that the boy's many, many scars had been closed by the demon, but only adequately enough to keep the boy alive until the demon was 'done' feeding. The actual healing - especially the mind - would take eternity, and Lucifer was secretly pleased to sense that Stolas, at this point, had no intension of ever fixing up this part of the boy, because if he had, then he would never have been able to _enjoy_ the boy's suffering.

"So…," Lucifer muttered to himself again. "What changed you so much, Stolas?" He flicked a finger, and the cinematic record reels began to play once again.

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_Ciel POV_

"_It was only after a loud burp escaped the demon's mouth that he had stopped 'feeding' as the demon later described, and turned to me. He flashed his magnificent fangs and asked me to name him. The name 'Sebastian' came to me, because the only one – or a thing – that I 'ordered around' in the Phantomhive manor was my dog: Sebastian. When I realized he needed a last name, I jokingly thought of naming him a Phantomhive, but then remembered a Sebastian Michaelis, a French inquisitor who wrote a book on demons. So, I took 'Michaelis' and stuck it on the demon, who winced at the idea before grudgingly accepting it. From that moment on, he began calling me his 'young master' or 'my lord'. _

_…Oh, and he gave me the contract seal in my eye. Boy, did that hurt! I simply gritted my teeth and endured the pain, refusing to panic even when blood ran down my cheek from the curved eye. Sebastian inspected his handiwork, then gave a satisfied smile, and a nod of approval. _

_As we left the body parts strewed auditorium that was burning down to the ground, he asked me for the direction to the manor house. However, we were a whole lot closer to the townhouse in London, and since the manor had burned down, I only had the London townhouse to go to for shelter._

_I was amazed by this demon's abilities as I watched him manage everything from lying through his teeth to the Scotland Yard, shopping for clothes, cooking meals, and above all, healing wounds. He knew how to make medicines and how to use his own biology to …well, 'heal' me. This was most convenient, because going to a hospital was out of the question in my condition, for there would be far too many questions. The most inconvenient of them all would be centered on the pentacle symbol I sported in my right eye, which was 'the most effective' spot in the entire human body. _

_...Although, as Sebastian claimed, no one he knew of had ever had the guts to actually choose their right eye until he met me. He told me that I should wear an eyepatch at all times except for when I am alone, or Sebastian was with me. I was dismayed to learn that I would most likely feel discomfort in my curved eye, since the cornea was damaged and any direct light would make it hurt. _

_He also told me that the symbol was there - originally - for the contracted demon to find his prey easily, just in case they decided to run away. __I told him, "I have absolutely no intension of running away from you, Sebastian. I intend to 'use you' to the fullest of your abilities. I did not summon you – if that is truly what I have done – to run from you. It does not make any sense." …To which, Sebastian laughed and told me this was the spirit I should keep up. He was apparently used to masters who tried to run and hide from him when he was done with his end of the bargain and moved to collect the debt. _

_I could, of course, understand why this would happen. But, I was not a coward, and I am not one to back out of a bargain if the other side was fulfilled. Sebastian understood my sincere intension, and so always followed my orders and carried them out to perfection. _

"_Do not kill me. Always protect me until I fulfill my purpose in this world." …This was the ultimate condition of our contract. When we thought about how to fit him in my daily life, I realized something important: Phantomhives needed an Earl. Phantomhives only had me left to maintain Earldom. This meant an enormous workload and a series of social events I needed to attend, and a lot of travelling. _

_I thought of Tanaka, and decided the man was far too old and frail for a butler's job. …Therefore, it was decided that Sebastian should be my butler, to take advantage of the flexibility on what duties a 'butler' can perform, and make use of the naturalness of a butler's presence in every situation and occasion. …And, Sebastian was more than capable of being all of that, and a whole lot more, to me. _

_So, he began to eventually not only 'take care of me' as a butler should, but also began acting as a tutor on occasion, claiming that I was not ready to invite anyone into the house, let alone start living like an Earl. I agreed, and began preparing myself for the new life with Sebastian, and to learn what no one would normally need to learn until much, much later in their lives._

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Present Time

As the cinematic record progressed, Lucifer saw more and more evidence of Stolas's changes in the boy's memories. It was crystal clear that the demon prince had genuine affection for this human. It was also obvious that he was trying to 'raise' the boy in both mind and soul in order to spice up the boy's soul better. Still, the king of fallen angels did not like Stolas's method. He continued.

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_Ciel POV_

"_It took me …well, my body ...at least three months to fully recover from the four-weeks-long captivity I had been put through. My legs had practically turned to jelly because of the long-term confinement in cages. I could not lift anything much heavier than a dinner dish due to muscle loss, and I only had the strength of my will to support me. …And even that was faltering often due to the pain I was in. _

_Sebastian's treatment method was extremely unconventional. He would take hours to gather the herbs and other medicinal plants, bugs, and even worms from somewhere and start cooking up the remedies right in front of my eyes. He would then start either feeding the concoction to me, or applying them on me. The absolute hardest of these 'treatments' I had to bear, was always centered on my 'internal' injuries. Fractured bones I did not know I had, and torn or damaged ligaments I never knew about until I began to move around, and most of all, the absolute havoc my stomach acid has caused on my stomach lining tissues._

_The near-constant abuse that my rear end was being subjected to, had also given me trouble while sitting down, and while I needed to defecate. Sebastian took care of the stomach walls first, so that my stomachache and indigestion would be helped. This meant that my body was able to absorb more nutrition, which in turn enabled my body to generate more energy to combat with the myriad ailments. _

_…Of course, I did not know all this before Sebastian kindly explained to me upon my request. Sebastian also figured that the extreme level of stress I had been placed under has given me a stomach ulcer, and gave me many types of herbal drinks and aloe leaves to munch on._

_When I 'slept', it was in short intervals interrupted by horrific nightmares and bad memories. Sebastian always knew when I was suffering from them, and more than once a day – or night – I would find him curled up next to me and holding me. When I asked him why, he told me that I asked him to, although I had no memories of that. But then, I could not control my memories or the nightmares. Sebastian told me that the whole reason anyone dreamed was because their minds were trying to process and sort out whatever they had absorbed, and I had 'a lot' of sorting and processing that were still undone._

_Although I was mostly put on liquid diet for the first 2 weeks or so, there was never a time when I felt 'hungry'. I also was extremely frightened of what would happen if my intestines began to work on anything solid. For one, I knew that a lot of repairing was needed on the 'ravaged' as Sebastian called it, walls of my large intestines and the rectum. The first time he examined me 'there', I – though unintentionally – kicked him hard in the face. He bit his tongue because of it, and the wound bled really badly. Blood dribbled out of his mouth and I soon apologized after coming out of my flashback. However, I could not help it, and Sebastian did not scowl at me nor made any snide comment about it._

"_Young master, I need to see the actual damages that were left inside your body." Sebastian said after his tongue was healed. So, he flipped me on my back, and raised my legs upon his shoulders. Then, he took off his gloves and asked me to thread my fingers with his, so that I would be able to stay in contact with his hands and know that it was he – Sebastian – who was doing the examining, and not one of the occultists or the slave traders._

_But, now that he had his hands occupied, I did not know what he would do to actually examine me. – Until I felt 'it' gently push its way inside me. I tensed when I realized I could not see Sebastian any longer, and realized what was being put in me. I began to struggle, but he expected it, and held me down. The soft warmth of his tongue left me a short while later, and Sebastian let my legs and hands go. I was trying not to cry from the humiliation and the shock of having his tongue licking me where I least wished to be licked on, let alone touched. Then, Sebastian sighed and began making his medicine with the ever growing collection of herbs and chemicals in a cabinet situated next to my bed._

"_Young master, your bleeding appears to have stopped, but a week or more of time will be necessary for the membranes to grow back. There is a long laceration scar that must have been made when the membranes were stretched suddenly, and with more force than the tissues could handle."_

_Sebastian paused while I digested the information, secretly impressed by the way Sebastian could explain everything smoothly without pulling any punches, yet still remain considerate enough. At my silent nod to continue, he began again._

"_I need to apply some medicines over the wound to help with the healing process. In order to accomplish that without stitching – although you should have had them stitched up right after acquiring these injuries – I need to use my fingers. Will you let me do that?" He asked and I nodded. _

_My mind understood it, and my body needed it. But knowing this in my mind, and my body's instinct were two different things. I could not control my body's reactions, and so, once again, Sebastian was forced to use his tongue, grimacing at the taste of whatever medicine he was applying on me. As promised, he stayed clear of what were right above the spot he was disinfecting and treating._

"_Aren't you… disgusted? It is not the cleanest part of any human body." I commented as he was done and washing his mouth. He shook his head 'no'._

"_I do not get illnesses from anything that is coming from your body." _

"_Then, why are you being so careful about hygiene?" I shot back._

"_I am just washing my tongue, young master. The medicine I just used my tongue to apply on you is actually poisonous to us demons, and I am afraid it has damaged my tongue." _

_Sebastian replied with a funny voice – proof that his tongue was hurting, and prevented him from speaking normally. I instantly felt ashamed._

"…_Oh. …Sorry." _

_As if to prove his point, he stuck his tongue out, and sure enough, the membrane and the taste buds looked to have been melted raw. I winced at the sight, but the wound soon healed before my eyes. That practically ended the 'finger issue', because I kept reminding myself of the sight of his damaged tongue whenever he was putting his finger in me for any reason. I listened when Sebastian gave me anything, so long as they were given to me to help me. I also made it a point to trust him to take care of me. My reasoning was, I was already living on borrowed time. Sebastian seemed to appreciate this change in me, and I recovered rather quickly after that._

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Present Time

Lucifer frowned upon witnessing this part of the boy's memories. This behavior disturbed him. Stolas should not have acted so kindly to the boy. While Lucifer could see that Stolas was secretly enjoying the boy's pain, suffering, and an overwhelming undercurrent of shame, he was going too easy on Ciel Phantomhive. While Lucifer knew that Stolas was a very skilled healer, he should have just called any human doctor in the area and enjoy the show while the child suffered more. At least, that was how any normal, human-hating, and self-respecting demon should act.

What was even more disturbing was the fact that Stolas actually stayed with the boy and 'held' him. While it was natural for demons to guard their prey from other hunters, it was well outside of the norm to go so far as providing psychological and emotional security – let alone healing – to one's prey. If it was 'false security' Stolas was providing, it would have been all right. However, this was not the case with Stolas and this particular child.

Knowing his pet raven's past first-hand, though, Lucifer determined that this was already the beginning of the end for the demon prince. Lucifer sighed and downed the rest of the blood wine that was left in the goblet. He could already sense that nothing much that he was going to see from this point on would be pleasing to him.

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*This is the end of the first half of this part.

*Continue on to the next chapter: Chapter 8ii– Watching the Scales Tilt – CIEL

*Coming up – Lucifer and Lilith torment Ciel further, and more of Sebasitan's past will be revealed.


	10. Chapter 8ii Watching the Scales Tilt

*This is the 2nd half of Chapter 8. Please enjoy.

*Latest source of inspiration: "Amaoto (or "Sound of Rain") by Daisuke Ono, who is the voice actor playing the role of 'Sebastian Michaelis'

*Please let it be known that this is the 'much improved' version of the originally posted version on April 12th.

*Yey, I finally figured out how to insert the holizontal lines! :D

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"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 8ii: Watching the Scales Tilt - CIEL

Written by: GoodbyeMyHeart & Second Wind

_Ciel POV_

"_The one thing I needed help on was the continued night terrors and sometimes even waking dreams and panic attacks. Those did not go away completely. I just dealt with them better as time passed. But, I no longer squirmed whenever I found Sebastian next to me, or 'over' me. Sometimes, he'd smooth down my tense muscles with his hands and sometimes he would use his 'powers' to heal something such as spasms in my stomach and intestines, which unfortunately happened a lot. __Most of his powers were delivered or administered by his hands, but Sebastian also used his mouth a lot. He claimed he could use his saliva for a lot of things, and use it as a disinfectant or a painkiller; only because it killed or numbed the exposed nerve-endings of the human body. When used in massive quantity, such as when he hunted or killed his prey, his saliva apparently acted as a poison or a paralyzing agent. _

_But, mostly, Sebastian asked where I was hurt, and fixed the problems by willing my body to start acting correctly. He sometimes simply put his lips over my stomach and left them there, for hours at a time if necessary, until the spasms left my stomach and I could keep food down. This allowed the stomach acid to stop eating my stomach linings, and digest the food instead. __Sebastian did the same for my headache, and willed my body to start releasing correct amounts of hormones, and for the blood vessels in my head to start carrying blood smoothly. _

_It took a month or so for my body to get a hold itself, and start working properly. But once it did, my ulcers or spasms never came back, and I actually developed an incredibly tough stomach which was able to withstand the level of stress that would have surely killed most humans. _

_There was something I never told him about. This was mostly out of embarrassment, but also because I did not want to offend him. When Sebastian had stayed with me, I apparently went to sleep but started caressing his head in an easy, well-practiced manner after some time passed, and I kept at it until I fell too deeply asleep and my hands stopped. _

_When I was told about this – more than two years later, in fact, I realized what had happened. When our dog Sebastian was alive, he would often sleep with me in my room. He was such a big dog, that he could rest his head on my stomach or chest even while he was in a sitting position. And I would stroke his head until I fell asleep. On such nights, Sebastian the dog would stay on the floor by my bed, guarding me._

_Now, I had Sebastian the demon butler who guarded me and took care of me. I wondered why Sebastian had waited for so long to tell me about this, but I would like to think that he liked to be on the receiving end of my caresses, and did not want to make me self-conscious enough to stop doing it. _

_There was also one other thing which he helped me to come to terms with. As my body matured, I inevitably hit the period of my life called 'puberty'. Boy, have I made a mess of it. I was so sick of my body's changes, just as much as sick of trying and failing to cope with the mood-swings, insomnia, and worsening night terrors, that I threw the whole ordeal in Sebastian's way and refused to deal with it myself. Of course, Sebastian never let me get away with it. He told me to 'be shameless' about it, because it was 'natural'. He drilled these concepts inside my head until I accepted them, and started living with my changing body. _

_My parents will most likely blow a gasket, if they ever learned what orders and 'requests' I have issued to Sebastian regarding this matter, but Sebastian being Sebastian, he found a way to take the middle ground. However, I sometimes still crave his intimate, expert touches, the smell of his body and breath, the taste of whatever skin he allowed me to taste, and how his hair felt as I ran my hands through them. …Come to think of it, both during my captivity and during the time I spent with Sebastian, I have never had any physically intimate moment with women. It was never really by choice, but still, I was glad he had not cast me aside for expressing my desires, or made me feel stupid about it. _

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Present Time

Lucifer once again stopped the reel and pondered the situation. He played back the reel a little, and focused on Stolas's unclothed form.

An unspeakable degree of jealousy overtook Lucifer as he watched Stolas teasing, smirking, and at times gently smiling, while clothed in nothing but air – giving his undivided attention and ministration – to Ciel Phantomhive. Lucifer had known literally every inch of that man's body. He knew the smell, the taste, and above all, the feel of that particular body personally.

The knowledge that this pitifully thin, arrogant human boy had known the kind of secret pleasures which are denied to him every time Stolas left for the human world, made Lucifer angry.

The fact that Lucifer had known how foolish this train of thought really was, went ignored by his busy conscious mind. A million ideas about what exactly he was going to do his soon-to-be prisoners raced through his mind as he watched Stolas pleasure Ciel in the boy's bed. Lucifer gruntred as he saw Stolas lying beside the earl's small frame to hold him close. Lucifer fought with the urge to smash Ciel Phantomhive's face when he saw the unmistakable look of affection spread over Stolas's face as the raven watched Ciel closed his eyes to sleep off the effect of the night's stress and activities.

It was going too far out of the norm for Stolas to protect the boy's innocence by denying the young boy his need for physical affection. The boy was suffering, and that kind of frustration, mixed with pain, was rather pleasing. However, if Stolas had complied with the boy's request in the first place, he would have been able to 'feed' on the boy's soul. Not all at once, but bit by bit and ease his own insatiable hunger just enough to keep himself at his peak form. It was very clear to Lucifer that, as time went by, Stolas was growing weaker and needed to be 'fed'.

Lucifer was very much aware of Stolas's love of 'principles' – for he very much prided himself on it. The words Stolas spoke to Ciel in an effort to explain his reasons for refusing to give himself to Ciel also troubled Lucifer, because he sounded too much like his 'other half'. It alarmed and infuriated Lucifer to realize that he was, indeed, losing his pet raven. He tapped his fingers over the armrest of his throne, before taking a deep breath and flicking his finger to continue the show.

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_Ciel POV_

"_However, out of all these unpleasant businesses called 'life', what had been just as cumbersome and a pain in the butt were the legal proceedings. I was a child who had almost been declared dead, and suddenly I was back amongst the living and at the same time, inherited a hell of a lot of money along with the 'Earldom' - should I choose to take it._

_Frankly, I needed the privileges that came with being an Earl of Phantomhive, precisely because I was - and always am - a child. I knew nothing about how to handle money, and Sebastian taught and advised me a lot about what to do. He hired secretaries and governesses for me – the honest ones, as he called them, who genuinely cared about me. He called tutors and advisors for me when I asked about taking over the small toy company my father had been running as a hobby. _

_Being a demon, though, Sebastian gave me a lot of knowledge about the loop-holes in the system which was governing the commerce, and how the profits can be increased dramatically by using bold ideas and unconventional investments. One of such ideas was acquiring a factory in India, where workers could be hired for next to nothing, and safety regulations were nearly nonexistent. That is not to say, however, that I have ordered them to disregard safety cautions. I would have gotten into a lot of troubles, if I had. No, what I did was treat these workers 'far better' than any of that country's workers had ever been treated. So, what happened was that we had the very best employees in the whole of India - at least the very best among their low-class working population._

_The other idea Sebastian gave me, was to actually 'buy' companies that were struggling financially, but which were already equipped with the 'whole package' - which means that the struggling companies with skilled workers, experienced engineers, and the know-how of the trade. I injected these companies with fresh cash and new designs of products, and supplied them with materials that were needed to revive them. This led to their increased loyalty to me, and eliminted any future possibility of them turning against us. __Once I was armed with the skill and knowledge of the trade, the whole field was mine to conquer. I attacked aggressively, hid whenever I needed to, and pounced when opportunities presented themselves. _

_The biggest weapon I had, however, was also my biggest weakness: my age. People severely underestimated me, and my abilities when I first began to crawl out of my shell. Of course, they would! The Ciel Phantomhive whom they remembered was a sweet-talking, warm-hearted, always-smiling adorable child whose shyness always kept him holding onto his father's or his mother's hand at all times._

_Imagine their shock the moment they met the current 'Me': the frigid, cynical, hard-headed, clever, never-smiling, always-scowling, merciless king of the game. I let my mean smiles become my trademark, dearly enjoyed making tons of fresh enemies, and I made Elizabeth cry with my refusals to attend parties she threw for me. I flat-out refused to pose for portraits with her or anyone else, for that matter. …Well, I always liked to draw more than I liked to be drawn, and I never liked looking into mirrors unless it was an absolute necessity. _

_I think it was close to Christmas when I began to work on a piece of painting in absolute secrecy. I knew that Sebastian could sense my thoughts, so I kept it carefully blanked out of my mind until I knew for sure that I was 'left alone'. So, of course, it took forever to finish up. It was nearly summertime when I finally quit adding or erasing the layers of paint and stashed it away, so as not to be seen by anyone. But of course, I couldn't find the perfect timing, nor the reason to get it out of its hiding place to give it to the right person. So it was left and forgotten until the …well, 'the big fire' happened, and it was lost. I did not remember about it until I was on that gondola with Sebastian - on our way to my death._

_I truly hated myself when I realized what I had left behind. But when Sebastian noticed my sadness and asked about it, I shook my head and told him it was nothing. I remember thinking, 'it was my best work'._

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Present Time

"Wait." Lucifer muttered, once gain stopping the cinematic record. He remembered the items which Echidna had her warriors bring back from Stolas's palace after it was demolished. He rose from his throne, walking briskly toward the door, and leaping to the storage room where he had ordered the salvaged items be kept in. He ignored all the intricate work of craftsmanship – a lot of which had been done by Stolas himself, but kept focusing his search on 'paintings'.

After half an hour of searching, Lucifer found four – all of which had been found inside the demon prince's characteristically classy private bedroom. Three had been of Stolas's past conquests and the ones which had been drawn by his other 'slaves'. However, he knew by just a single glance which had been done by the child. He picked it up, scrutinizing the work closely for a minute before heading back to the chamber where Ciel Phantomhive was still being interrogated.

Lucifer sat back down, and with a flick of his index finger, the whole cinematic reel disappeared. With an undisguised look of anger, he grabbed the still-unconscious head of Ciel and began plying the boy's memories from 'recent events' – the ones the boy acquired after descending into Hell.

The boy's memories came at him obediently, flowing into his mind like a stream of water. There were no cinematic records for those mortals who had already died, but their memories could form streams of their thoughts along with memories. Lucifer also possessed the ability with which to put these streams of thoughts together much like a real cinematic recored. This was a much familiar task, the one which Lucifer used very often when interrogating suspects of foul play. He localized his search on the most 'relevant' subject and, upon finding the image of the portrait he was after, Lucifer dove inside.

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_Ciel POV_

_When I was actually brought to 'the new world' which was Sebastian's own domain, there it was in his private bedroom, neatly framed in crystal and a myriad gem stones. Of course, I did not have a body back then so I could only get a vague vision of it, but I knew what it was I was being shown._

_Sensing the astonishment I was feeling, Sebastian – whose birth name was 'Prince Stolas', as I learned – laughed heartily and asked me how I could ever have thought that I could keep 'that' a secret. I was a bit mortified, but then Sebastian lifted me up in his palms, and let me look at it closer. _

"_I did not know about it until I was about to leave for Paris with you, my dear Ciel." Sebastian's voice was a whisper and it made me blush for some reason. I was very glad that I did not have a body right then. Sebastian continued in his normal voice, "I especially loved the fact that you added a cat. You don't see one in my world. But, you see… that is why I could not hang it anywhere 'public'. Besides, you signed it at the bottom right corner. It's my personal treasure along with my lapel pin of the Phantomhive family crest. I would like to keep them to myself, you know." Sebastian said, then held me to his chest again. His smile was genuine, just like the one I left on him in the painting. _

_I retorted, "Well, you did play with that fur ball often enough. Besides, the front steps and the water fountain were always your favorite spots for taking breaks, and I had an excellent view on both to work on the painting." I commented and looked down. Sebastian cupped me more securely in his palms and guided me to my 'room', which I do not recall ever leaving."_

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Present Time

"Your Majesty. The Queen has arrived, and she is asking for you." The voice of the guard interrupted Lucifer, and he reluctantly brought himself back to the present.

"Send her in, and bring us both another round of blood wine." Lucifer ordered, and watched as the guard hurried out of the chamber. It would be too much trouble for Lucifer to rewind the reel and watching it all over again. Deciding on just telling her himself and then leaving her to watch it all if she so desired, he switched back from the boy's current memories and back to the continuation of the cinematic record. He knew that the end was near, since the boy had only been with Stolas for a little shy of 4 years.

Lucifer signaled Lilith to be seated beside him before doing anything else, and waited as she shrugged and was seated in the throne beside him. A dimissive shake of her head signaled for Lucifer to continue, and that she had saved her questions for later. Lucifer turned back to the still-unconscious child, and flicked his finger to continue.

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_Ciel POV_

"_Sebastian, Elizabeth - maybe Soma and Agni as well - were most likely the only ones who understood the side of me that still remained unchanged from my earlier life. Aside from my looks, I had lost all traces of a child and people were beginning to whisper nasty things about me. They called me 'a heartless kid', 'an arrogant and vile creature', 'poison', 'an old boy', and a 'vicious puppy' whose bites left many lasting consequences, and that I was a 'dirty fighter'. I was not hurt when I heard all these naysayers. In fact, I enjoyed them immensely, and used it to my advantage whenever possible. I also kept up my studies, eager to get ahead beat the adults. _

_Before long, the money from my toy company began to flow. Within a year, I finally announced to the world that I was officially ready to become the 'Queen's Guard dog'. At the age of 11, going on twelve, I was by far the youngest Earl of Phantomhive in history. However, Queen Victoria thoght I was ready, and acquainted both me and Sebastian with the full knowledge of what the Phantomhives truly existed for. I could not believe my ears a few times as I listened to my Queen. But looking at Sebastian for assurance and seeing him nod in silent assurance, I just swallowed and accepted the cold facts._

_On our way back to the townhouse after finishing up the meeting with the Queen, I was filled with dread, learning the truth about my family heritage, and realized that my family was a cursed one. I felt unusually tired when I left the Queen's castle. By the time Sebastian stopped the coach and opened the door for me to step out, I was spacing out. My mind was racing in a hundred different directions, threatening to throw me into a spiral of negative thoughts. _

_I did not hear Sebastian calling my attention to alert me of our arrival back at the townhouse. I did not protest when he picked me up and carried me into the townhouse without my instructing him to do so. I hated the way my arms shook a little and my breath caught as I was hoisted into the familiar security of Sebastian's arms. I grimly put my arm around his neck, and closed my eyes as he carried me inside the mansion._

_I still said nothing as he bathed me and dressed me for bed, and neither of us said anything when I tugged on his arm to make him stay. I went to sleep, listening to Sebastian's breathing and his faint heartbeat through his clothes, his strong arms sheltering me from the weight of the world. When I opened my eyes the next day – at nearly noon, I began preparing to be the 'Earl of Phantomive' in honest. I no longer had any doubts about where I was going in life." _

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Present Time

Lucifer ground his teeth in frustration. He knew that look in Stolas's eyes as he cared for his little master. Especially the way Stolas's eyes followed as the child grimly let his butler bathe and dress him. The downcast eyes of the child caught Stolas's every movement even as his brains worked hard to try and digest the events of the evening. Biology was something that cannot be defeated, and even in this demon prince – his favorite pet raven – it was apparent. This, above all, convinced Lucifer that Stolas was already just one step away from crossing the line.

When Stolas was both literally and physically within his reach, and for as long as Stolas was surrounded by other demon lords and servants, the man was a powerful demon prince whose battle prowess and uncanny intelligence were always in high demand. However, once he was away from the Underworld and was resided in the realm of humans, Stolas was as far from his demonic self as he was allowed to be.

It was also clear that Stolas actually loved the sun, and did not mind spending hours at a time underneath it. Stolas always commented that this was a proof of his demonic power, but Lucifer – as well as the rest of the elder council – knew the truth. The longer Stolas spent under the sun, the more sunlight – and with it, the astral power – he received from the heavens above.

Lucifer growled as he recalled the same downcast look which the cursed angel gave him just before her execution began and Echidna - the acting executioner - moved toward her prey. The look which the angel gave Lucifer then, was of pity. It infuriated Lucifer to no end, because it was aimed at him: King of Fallen Angels. The fallen angel had pitied Lucifer in the very last moments of her life, and whether deliberately or not, she had deprived Lucifer of his desire: watching that angel giving looks of pity toward her cursed son who was also chained to the wall right beside her. She refused to look at her son despite his many pleas and screams and apologies, trying desperately to stop the execution from being carried out._ How dare she?! How dare she refuse Lucifer - her ultimate ruler - his pleasure??_

Next to Lucifer, Lilith also looked excited over the interesting images that were being shown to her. She could sense Lucifer's distress, and very well knew the reason why, for she had also been with Lucifer when the whole chain of events concerning Asmodeus, his angelic wife, and their sole heir: Stolas happened.

Lilith still remembered every second of the cursed angel's execution, and the very exquisite taste of her wailing son's agony. Of course she knew. She fed on it for so long, until there was barely any sanity - or a majority of memories from his own life - left in the pitiful creature. Also, tormenting the raven prince took the edge off of her rage over the banishment of Asmodeus, for the angels had captured him before neither Lilith nor Lucifer could get their hands on the great demon lord for the crime of loving a human. 'Of course,' Lilith smirked, 'that secret is still kept safe - from the majority of our kingdom.'

Lucifer cursed the young earl in front of him for the millionth time. Why could he not have resided in Belgium, where it rained 300 days a year? And why, above all, did it have to be this particular child who had summoned Stolas in the first place??

The cinematic record was, of course, a summary of one's life, and Lucifer could only get glimpses of a majority of events that had occurred since then. Lucifer expected it to end soon, but he was going to pay very close attention to its every detail, for he needed to know just how bad the damag is. He once again flicked his finger and let the reel run its course.

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_Ciel POV _

"…_Okay. So, maybe I was lying to say that what people said about me did not affect me or hurt me, as the speakers of such hateful words wished me to. I just did not give them the satisfaction. I have become quite adept at acting nonchalantly whenever I walked into a room and people stopped talking. Or whenever I passed such nobles and they snickered or made irritating noises as I passed them by. _

_However, I 'hit he roof', so to speak, when they used people to badmouth me and my company. Some even went as far as planting false reports and product samples, claiming that my factories and products were not up to the standard they claimed to be. I nearly ordered Sebastian to 'find them and smoke them out, then bring them all back to the manor', so that Sebastian can have all the fun he wished in torturing them and either murder them or devour them. I knew that Sebastian needed such activities once in a while, and I loved to keep him on his toes._

…_Well, I actually did issue that order, but Sebastian very wisely refused, stating that by wasting my time on such senseless acts of murder, I would be thrown off course and will never achieve my ultimate goal. I admitted that I was still acting like a child. Therefore, I made them pay a hefty sum of money and issue a public apology after a favorable conclusion of an official investigation by the Scotland Yard. I had the Queen Victoria's blessing as I began anew. The victory - for all its sweetness - left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. However, this really was nothing compared to Lau's betrayal that came much, much later. _

_I had never allowed myself to feel these …emotions or the sting that came with these bitter experiences. I always had an antidote to such pains in the name of Sebastian Michaelis. I have always instinctively told myself that there was nothing to fear, because Sebastian was there. That, for as long as I did, I would not have to feel anything as petty as 'emotional pains'. Nope, the quest was all that mattered, and the Queen was the only person whom I served. So long as I had her approval, I did not have to fuss over other trivial matters such as the naysayers, the conspirators, and petty criminals. _

_Maybe this was why I was so very much affected by Sebastian 'leaving' me later on. I really was kidding myself when I told myself that I could do it - to go back to London on my own. Although I actualy did return to London on my own, I had suspicions that 'He' was watching me from afar. _

_Of course, the signs were all around me that signaled me something like this was going to happen. First, there was the fact that I have neglected to even 'ask' Sebastian what he needed – not the trivial everyday things, but something as basic as 'biological needs', assuming automatically that he would be taking care of his own 'nutritional needs' without my asking first. The first sign that I have missed was when I ordered him 'not to kill anyone unless we needed to', and that he was 'not allowed to go wandering around without my consent'. I remember Sebastian narrowing his eyes dangerously the first time I gave him these orders._

_Sebastian was a servant, but for demons, this type of 'servitude' meant a 'slave-master' relationship. He had probably been in it once too many to even assume that I never knew what I was doing. Instead, he assumed that I knew what demons' most basic needs were, simply because I never asked about them. _

_The cursed Phantomhive family legacy also played a role in this assumption, because as Sebastian has told me, I am not the only Phantomhive to have descended to Hell. All during our partnership, he had been thinking that I was deliberately starving him, because I allowed him to have such a 'big meal' prior to actually taking him as my servant. _

_I had a feeling that he was hiding something – some big secret or some …really large request that he was hesitant to voice to me. I did not approach him about such matters, though, and that had been another of my biggest mistakes – no, not 'mistakes'. They were my 'failures' - with Sebastian._

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Present Time

Now, Lucifer was able to see that Stolas had actually been starving himself to a near breaking point, and never informed his master of his dire need to feed. Lucifer sighed. 'Of course,' he thought to himself, 'this is a part of his …acquired nature.' It had been practically Lucifer's own fault that the raven prince automatically thought he deserved to be punished for simply being what he was. Stolas was, after all, an expert in endurance, and especially when it came to 'hunger' and 'physical pain' of all sizes and types.

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_Ciel POV_

_I seriously do not know just what kinds of masters Sebastian__ has had in his long life, to think that I would actually do something like that deliberately. What had they been like to him? Did they make him work without a break 24/7? Did they use him for their own sickening enjoyment of watching demons starve?? …Well, some of the things that Sebastian told me about the masters of demons were enough to give me nightmares._

_It was nearly at the end of our contract that I finally realized what the problem was about. We just finished the Stanley case which revealed Lau's betrayal. I was too exhausted by the whole ordeal, and so I ordered Sebastian to bathe me and put me straight to bed without supper. He insisted on letting him change first, but I refused and told him to do whatever he had to do 'after' he put me in bed and made sure I was sleeping before leaving the room. He sighed, but followed my orders. _

_Sebastian then got behind me and took his jacket off before he began washing me. I wrinkled my nose when the scent of what was unmistakably 'blood' hit my senses. __I knew the smell very well, from the time when I accidentally shot Sebastian in his head. Not only that, but it was accompanied by the scent of rusting iron, sweat, and burned flesh that I was accustomed to smelling from that time when I discovered the manor burning away along with my parents and other occupants; then again while I was in captivity. _

_Even then, my very tired mind took few minutes to finally decipher the situation – and Sebastian's condition. This resulted in inevitable questionings and eventually orders from me and Sebastian's reluctant replies; then more questionings from me, and his even more reluctant replies._

_I cursed myself, because what damages I saw on Sebastian's body that night had been done over a considerable amount of time. The time I wasted writing useless letters to acquaintances who deserted us. Yes, 'us' – myself and Sebastian. The time I had spent lounging in the rickety old chair, and lying on the hard cot. _

_God knows what more would have happened if I had called him even one minute later? ...Who am I kidding? I know exactly what would have happened. Sebastian would have lost his eyes. __I shuddered. __It did not matter that even such level of damage would not leave him permanently scarred, or that demons have high pain tolerance. What got to me the most was the fact that the pain he would feel, and the agony he would be subjected to, did not change one bit simply because Sebastian is a demon. _

_When I asked Sebastian what could be done about his open wounds, he asked me to give him a special permission for him to use what he has called 'a rather radical form of black magic' which requires himself to temporarily return to his true, demonic form. __I asked him all the dangers of using such a method in the manor, and asked him to take every precaution he could think of to guard the occupants of the manor against whatever magic he was planning on using. Sebastian agreed, then went down to one of the empty basement rooms to heal himself._

_When Sebastian returned, he did not step inside my room, and only spoke to me through the closed door, saying it may not be safe yet for me to admit him into my private chambers. Sebastian was true to his word, and no one noticed anything suspicious, or reported of any strange symptoms or events happening around them. To this day, I have no idea what he had done, nor feel 'right' to ask him such a private question. All I care is that no one got hurt nor was harmed in the slightest as a result, and I had a fully-healed Sebastian beside me once again._

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Present Time

Lucifer stared at the image of the 'damaged' Stolas as he once again put the reel on pause. This was also a very familiar sight - one which only the select few had ever truly 'recognized' as their Prince Stolas, but one which had been seen for countless times, throughout centuries, to blood-thirsty audience. Stolas's description of what had been done to him by the torturer and by the angel Ash/Angela was also delicious to the point of salivating.

"Hmmm… Doesn't he look alluring, darling?" Lilith commented, the tone of her voice sounding higher than when she came in, and her perfectly styled hair dancing in the air was indicative of the energy her excited body was radiating. Lucifer smiled. Ohhh, yes. He could not wait to have his hands on Stolas again. Just killing the raven prince outright would never be enough. He will make the raven pay, and pay dearly, for his betrayal – whether or not it was intentional.

"He will look even more delicious after we are both through with him, my darling wife." Lucifer snickered and flicked his finger to continue the cinematic record, the gentle tone of his voice in stark contrast with thoughts of dark pleasures swirling inside his black, black heart.

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_Ciel POV_

"_So, after spending two days and not seeing the horrible scars fade, I began another line of questioning, and there, the cause of my failure was unveiled. The utter look of astonishment Sebastian gave me when he learned the truth that I really was clueless - was priceless. I could almost hear his voice booming: 'You stupid, useless piece of meat!' He must have wanted to tear me apart right then and there. But of course, he did not. He partly blamed himself for not noticing in the first place, because I was 'a boy' back then and I was 10 years old – barely. _

_Sebastian refused to 'feed' on me in any way until the contract was complete, so I was able to come to terms with the fact that Sebastian had in fact left me in Paris because he was at his limits. However, I really would have appreciated a warning beforehand. _

_What he had done in Paris, I learned during the long gondola ride on the Themes River. I am not angry at him for doing what was necessary to keep himself alive. _

…_I believe that, the event following the confrontation in Paris atop the Eiffel Tower, and which then concluded in the Tower Bridge of London, was an event which was even larger than both me and Sebastian had ever anticipated. It was, after all, a landmark event that would be told over and over again in history books – of not just humans, but in other realms as well. _

_Watching my Sebastian fight against all odds was both terrifying and fascinating at the same time. Terrifying, because he was fighting all alone and with a missing arm – or so I thought until the cursed spirits began leaving him. The death gods did not seem to be enemies of demons entirely, but were willing to work with both angels and demons if it was in order to keep peace between all co-existing worlds._

_Now that I am at the end of my short life, I am strangely devoid of feelings. I do not feel much of anything anymore. Not even when Sebastian explains to me what the strange floating lights are. I feel utterly spent. Exhausted. I have no need for regrets anymore. In front of us, a tiny island of sort emerges out of the curtains of fog. _

_Upon sensing what that place must be, a strange dull ache spread inside me, and begins eating at whatever peace of mind I have managed to achieve thus far. It annoys me endlessly, and I push it away. _

_Sebastian picks me up, like he always does, from the gondola. I put my arm around his neck, just as I always have. Nothing seems to change this part about us. Sebastian's reaction to my final words tells me that he is both shocked and pleased by my request. It is the same kind smile that I have seen just after our fight with Ash ended in victory. - Ah, you have no idea how badly I wanted to open my eyes when you were fighting Ash in your true form. You must have been magnificent._

_You kneel before me for the last time, and I hear you say 'Yes, my lord' for the last time, as well. Yes, Sebastian, it was fun while it lasted. And, yes, I am grateful that _YOU_ were the one who came for me, and I am entirely willing to seal our deal and complete it._

_I see your eyes are glowing, and although I have never told you this, I find them quite beautiful. I can now smell your sweet breath, and watch as your face descend toward mine. …Oh, right. This is what you were talking about earlier, when you said you would save 'that kind of kiss'. _

…_Neither of us closes our eyes as our lips meet for the first time. Your lips are so soft, Sebastian. …And, yes, it is the best kiss I have ever been given. His eyes reflect some deep emotions, and his tongue begins asking for entrance into my mouth. I nod firmly and open my mouth. Of course, Sebastian needs the passage open in order to extract my soul._

_I am entirely yours, as I have been ever since you became mine. Do whatever you see fit with my soul. I just hope that its taste is worth all your troubles. And, whatever it is worth, I wish you well."_

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Present Time

"Awww… How touching." Lilith commented as the reel ran itself out and stopped; her voice full of sarcasm. Next to her, Lucifer growled. It was very clear to him that Stolas had changed his plan the moment after he heard Ciel Phantomhive's last words. He was also convinced now that it was this child's love – yes, love – for Stolas that had ultimately changed the raven prince.

"Now that we know what happened and what is about to happen…" Lucifer smiled maliciously, "Let's start with Phantomhive. I want him hurt. I want him broken, and I want him to suffer. Stolas knows all our tricks, and he will know whatever we do to him instantly the moment he sees the child."

"I want in, and I want my fair share of time with the raven, as well. I want to make him relive everything." Lilith's blood red lips threatened to touch her ears with her maniacal smile. "It will be the most delicious show ever!" Her hysterical laughter once again filled the room, echoing against the stone walls.

"Lilith, darling, let us plan a grand homecoming ceremony for our pet raven. Shall we?" Lucifer asked Lilith with glowing eyes, and she laughed hysterically; a sure sign that she was just as excited as he.

"Yes, let's. But, please remember that all I want is the fun. He is yours to end." Lilith made her position clear, knowing she would get what she wanted, so long as she respected her husband's territories. He smiled contentedly.

Ciel Phantomhive was clearly the raven prince's 'Achilles' Heel'. If Lucifer could keep the raven while using the boy as the pressure point or as bait in order to use him to his heart's content, both he and Lilith could have a lot of fun with the two would-be prisoners. It was too bad that they were past that point now.

"First, we had better wake this child." Lucifer said as he cast his hand out to the still-unconscious earl, and woke him up with a tap on his forehead.

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Present Time - Ciel POV

I was dazed, and tried to look around for a brief moment without being able to comprehend much of anything. I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs that had taken residence inside my head. The moment I came fully awake, however, I wished I had stayed asleep. The now-familiar cold stone floor was a sight I most dreaded, and then I felt my heart drop to the said floor at the sight of Lucifer.

I did not recognize the woman who was standing next to the king of fallen angels, but the aura she radiated downright frightened me. Annoyed, I pushed down my growing fear and dread – not for myself, but for Sebastian, because I remembered that Lucifer had forcibly opened my cinematic record earlier. I sensed now that they had seen everything – or whatever was important in my life's memories. I shook my head again to clear my thoughts, then forced myself to think only of Sebastian.

"Ohhh…" She began as she approached me, her feet encased in a pair of elegant 5-inch heeled boots. "Well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lilith, the wife of Lucifer." Lilith's name made me swallow hard, but it was not entirely unexpected. I faced the royal demon couple defiantly.

"I am Ciel Phantomhive, the last Earl of Phantomhive." I announced in reply, standing on my feet, with my head held high. "My master is Prince Stolas, the son of great lord Asmodeus, and I have been under his ownership for the past …7 to 8 months." I was proud of myself for staying level-headed.

Sebastian had schooled me on this subject in the first year of our contract. What demons first focus on, are the person's eyes, for their eyes are the windows to their souls. Secondly, what demons most look for as the weakness in humans are their emotions. Demons feed on emotions – especially the dark kinds – and use them as pressure points in order to break a person.

"Young master. If you ever come across a demon in the human world, and I just happened to be not by your side, call me. If I am not there in time to rescue you, then know this: show no emotion. If this is not possible, then stay level-headed. Clear your mind of all thoughts, and then focus on something – anything – that will keep you stable, and prevent you from going into panic or shock."

These were the words from Sebastian. I had no idea how good this teaching will be, when I am faced with two of the most powerful demons to ever exist in all of Hell, but this was the only knowledge I am given to hold onto.

"You impressed me, Ciel Phantomhive…" Lucifer commented while getting up on his feet and approaching me in a deliberate manner. I stayed silent, my determined gaze following the great demon as he descended the very short stairs one by one, until he was again inches away from me. "You have managed to pull a high-class demon down from his throne without using force. Not only that, you have managed to turn him against me." With that, Lucifer grabbed me by my jacket collar, and lifted me until my small frame was dangling in the air. I struggled, trying to dislodge Lucifer' s hand. Lilith laughed harshly, and I heard Lilith approach us.

"Ahhh… This one really makes me laugh." She said as she inched closer to my face. I grimaced once she licked me from my chin up to the temple. I allowed himself to display my repulsion to Lilith's touch, but it soon turned into an expression of shock as her lips – and fangs – descended right over my jugular, prickling the skin and making me sweat. I cursed myself for it, but it was too late. "No, not yet." She cooed, then had a silent conversation with her husband before receiving a nod of approval.

I gasped as she took me off of Lucifer's hand and roughly tossed me in the air, pulling a sharp dagger from the sheath tied at her hip, and made a series of lightning-fast swing motion before I fell to the floor. I cried out as my bare skin met the cold, hard stone. I was horrified to discover that all the clothes I had been wearing were gone. They fell around me like over-sized confetti seconds later. I was instantly speechless.

"That's better." Lilith commented, her eyes gaining a dangerous gleam once she saw the Mark of the Beast on my torso. "You won't need it, where you are going." She announced with a smirk. The words chilled me far more than the freezing air of this place ever could.

"Now, shall we move on to the next show?" Lilith said, then issued an order in a language I did not understand, and gestured for the guards to get moving.

The guards were gone in a flash, but were back a minute later – with two squirming, yelling humans I had never seen before. One was a young-looking auburn-haired woman dressed in a provocative black dress. The other was a brown-haired man who was dressed more like a scholar on a research trip. They were both clothed, but were also hurt and their feet were encased in shackles. "None of you should miss this show. Let King Lucifer show you exactly what your mighty 'lord' Stolas really is."

With that, Lilith threw me toward the other two prisoners, making me yelp as my body stopped a few feet in front of the other two. She then pulled her whip out and struck the shackled feet of the other two, instantly forcing them to drop to the ground.

Lucifer approached me with glowing eyes and a cold smile.

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_Ciel POV_

Lucifer's fingertips touch my forehead; the heel of his palm presses into my eyes, and all at once there is blackness.

I am falling. Or, at least, it feels that way, as different shades of the same sort of black begin to drip like paint down the backs of my eyelids, and the floor seems to have given way. The touch of Lucifer's hand seems to slowly fade, until I am nothing, just me, feeling the ropes on my wrists only vaguely now. I am blind.

And then I see a flash of—white, or something pale. Have the lights gone out? Am I still in the palace? I cannot tell—but there, again, something moving. And a sound—like a woman's laughter.

I recognize that tone and pitch, the rise and fall. Lilith. She has laughed enough at me these past hours.

Slowly my eyes adjust to whatever I am seeing. There is no air here; I feel nothing at all, but I can see into the dimness. Slowly they come into focus: Lilith, with her pale hair; Lucifer, darker than she; and someone else—I cannot make them out—someone else, on their hands and knees between the King and Queen of Hell. Whoever it is, their face is hidden by long, dark, ragged hair.

All three are naked, but Lilith is the only one flaunting her nudity; I try to turn my eyes away, disgusted, but something is keeping my gaze focused straight ahead.

"Don't look away," cooes Lucifer's voice in my ear, from somewhere far, far away.

The prostrate figure, I see, is male, and his body is sickly thin and wasted almost to the bone. He looks human, but the aura radiating from him screams demonic heritage. Demon or no, he is weak. I can see his chest heave with the labor of breathing; his white, white knuckles and dirtied fingertips scrape in vain at the floor. He is winged, as well: thick black wings with rich feathers, the only part of him that looks healthy. But even they droop over his shoulderblades and trail upon the floor.

Lilith leans forward and grips the back of the prostrate one's neck. If he were human I would call him a young man, perhaps seventeen, from the lithe look of his body. She grips hard with her long-nailed fingers, and pushes down on his head, forcing it toward the floor.

"Have you forgotten your place?" she says, smiling in a manner that is sickly sweet and nauseating. "My dear—"

With a smile that matches his Queen's, Lucifer, seemingly enthroned upon the air, scissors apart his impossibly perfect legs. Lilith pushes the young man's head in between and tightens her fingers.

"Well? Go on," she hisses.

"Please," says the young man, "please, Your Majesties, I—I am so tired."

A jolt seizes me. I know that voice.

_I know that voice_. The first voice I heard before I was brought back into the light, the last voice I heard before I died, the voice that spoke to me every day of my life for three years.

It is Sebastian.

Lilith's smile becomes a snarl. "Impudence," she growls, and pushes violently on Sebastian's head—a noise that sounds shockingly like a whimper comes from him. "Do it. It's all you're good for anyway."

His shoulders sag, and—obeisantly!—he follows her orders.

I don't want to look. Heaven knows I don't want to look. Thankfully the view of it is blocked by Lucifer's leg, and all I can see is Lilith, standing smugly over Sebastian—_my Sebastian_—with one foot on his back.

Hatred curls in my chest. How dare they? _How dare they _do this to him, force him to humiliate himself?

There is a slick sound and I hear Sebastian say, "Please—please, I don't want to."

I have never heard him beg, or even sound as if he were on the verge of begging. Sebastian does not beg. I see his head fall, ever so slightly, and for a moment I glimpse his closed eyes, and the way his long, black eyelashes fall on his skin—yes, it is him. I cannot doubt it.

"No matter," Lilith snarls. "Do not be impudent."

Sebastian bites his lip—his arms are trembling with the effort of holding him aloft above the floor. "I did not mean to—offend, I—please, it's been—"

"Do not question your orders, slave!" Lilith shrieks, then, and she pushes down hard with her foot. Sebastian, with a small yelp of surprise, collapses under the force of her foot, elbows jutting out on the floor.

Lucifer crosses his legs and smiles.

Lilith, however, seems decidedly unhappy. She lifts her foot. "Back up," she barks. "_Up_, worthless wretch—"

With difficulty, Sebastian lifts himself up, but his head still hangs down at his collarbone; his knees buckle again as Lilith suddenly crouches, and crawls astride his back, as if he were a horse or beast of burden.

I am beginning to feel sick inside, looking at him like this.

"You will obey your rulers," Lilith says, her voice dripping with honey and venom. "Shall I teach you what the consequences are of disobedience?"

Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Lilith reaches down and curls her long-nailed fingers around one of the black feathers at his shoulderblades. Smiling nastily, she tightens her grip—and tears it out.

Sebastian jerks, and a small noise of pain escapes his lips, but he does not move to return his head to Lucifer's body; instead, he tightens his clutching on the ground, as if for support.

"Oooh, _stubborn_," Lilith says, and shrieks with laughter, and gathers handfuls of his feathers and rips them out. Black blood, thin as water, spurts up from Sebastian's shoulders, and this time he screams.

He screams, but he does not buckle, and his milk-white teeth are crushed into his lips until their bleed as well.

I cannot move, but I can feel my face going slack-jawed in horror. No. What are they doing to him? Why?

Lucifer touches a finger to his grinning lips, and watches the show with lowered eyelids.

Lilith cleaves feather after feather from Sebastian's shoulders, arm muscles taut, pulling and shredding with reckless abandon; Sebastian screams and screams, and his blood lands on Lilith's bare body and she _screams_ with glee.

No. No. My eyes begin to sting. He looks so…defeated.

He buckles, then, but she does not relinquish him, and as he lies helpless on the floor, his feathers fall, black and soft and covered in blood, around him. He screams until it seems he has no voice left, and then the hoarse whisperings of pain and sobs sear from his throat.

He cries. They do not see, but I do.

"Stop," I whisper, but they cannot hear me and Lilith does not stop. She pulls at his wings, she bares their tips to the white, slick bone, she scrapes at his ragged shoulderblades until they bleed in long dark gashes. "Stop—don't—you're hurting him." No. Stop.

It's all I can fathom to say. I can't watch, I can't stop watching—she'll tear him to shreds, and his screams are still burning in my ears.

"Please," I say, a bit louder; there are tears in my eyes. No. This is _my _Sebastian—this is the only person in the world I've ever found myself capable to love—how can they hurt him? How can they hurt my Sebastian? "Stop—please!" And he howls in pain and my heart is breaking.

Of course, they do not listen.

Hours seem to pass, and I look hatefully on in horror as Lilith strips every feather from Sebastian's wings, until they hover in mere skeletons over his gasping body. His face is shining with tears, the whites of his red eyes pink. He is defeated.

Lilith is gasping for breath, she has laughed so long. Lucifer looks quietly on as she rips the last of the blackness from Sebastian's wings.

She leans over him then, and whispers in his ear. Her whisper rings in echoes around the room.

"Just like your mother," she says.

He is too far gone to hear her.

With those words, she leans back again. She wraps her fingers around the bones protruding from his back.

She cannot possibly do what I suspect she is. No—anything but that. No. It will kill him, surely!

"Just like your mother," she says, more of a shriek this time, and with a roar of laughter she rips the bones of his wings out of his shoulderblades.

Sebastian's scream builds up and builds up, quiet at first, and then louder, and then heart-rending, and he is thrown into racking spasms of pain and blood pours from his back and his beautiful tear-tracked face contorts, he screams and screams, begs, pleads, curls up and rakes at his forehead to draw the pain somewhere else, anywhere else, anywhere, anywhere, please, please.

I scream with him.

* * *

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Present Time - Ciel POV

The sight of the palace crashes into my eyes and I am still screaming.

I can barely see my captors through my tears. Lucifer has drawn his hand away. Still seared on my eyes is the vision of Sebastian, so broken, so tormented, lying on the floor surrounded by his own black blood.

Lilith laughs at me, once.

My scream peters out into a hoarse gasp and oxygen—or whatever it is that I breathe—throws itself back into my lungs. I let my head drop and my bound shoulders sag.

What had they done to him?

My tears fall in small puddles on the floor.

There is a hand in my hair; it grips hard and wrenches my head up, pushes my Adam's apple out, making it jut. Dull pain blossoms through my skull.

Lilith looks down at me, smirking. "Did you enjoy that, love?"

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be able to bite down, hard, on her horrible tainted hands. I bare my teeth at her, every vein in my forehead beginning to tic.

"Oooh! Angry. How delicious." Lilith releases my head. "How is that for you, my dear King?" she calls, over her shoulder, to Lucifer. "Have you seen everything you need to?"

"I'm not quite sure," Lucifer purrs, touching a finger to his lips and observing me—me, breathing hard, filling my eyes with as much hatred as I can and shooting it at them through my gaze. "He certainly seems—touched. What do you say, my Queen? Shall we show him more of his precious Sebastian?"

"Don't you _dare _call him that!" I shriek at them, angered beyond reason at hearing his name, _the name I gave him_, pass their horrible lips. "That name is _mine _to say!"

"And passionate, too," Lilith says, voice slow as syrup. "Lucifer, my dear, I think we have reason to believe that the rumors are true!"

"Love," says Lucifer musingly, still smiling that too-wide smile. "What an _all-consuming _taboo."

My heart drops into my stomach.

Oh, no. What have I done? Damn you, Ciel, letting your emotions get the better of you! _What were you told?! Show no emotion! _

Lucifer spins maddeningly on his heel, and steps lightly to the writing-desk situated only a few feet away. The blood-red quill standing up from the inkwell there seems twitching to be used.

He takes it up, fills its well, touches it down to the paper. Pauses, lifts it, looks at me.

"I feel in the mood for a bit of irony, Lilith, my darling," he says, staring at me with a lust in his eyes that I do not like at all.

"Oh?"

Lucifer saunters to me, holding the quill aloft.

"How is this for you, my Queen?" he says, kneeling before me, taking my chin in his hand and wrenching my head up. A small noise of pain escapes me; must he be so _rough_? "Shall we sign dear Stolas' death warrant...in his precious master's blood?"

My heart drops even further.

"How delightfully _symbolic_!" Lilith squeals, in morbid glee.

I cannot struggle. Lucifer's quill, its sharp tip, touches on the side of my neck, and in one slash carves a long line across its surface.

I flinch. I cannot die from such a cut, not in this form, but it hurts still; I can feel the warmth of my blood blooming down my throat.

Lucifer grins as he fills the well with my blood, and then he lets me go.

I cannot look. I turn my face away as he touches the bloodied quill to the death warrant; I close my eyes as tight as they can be as he scratches out the signature.

What have I done?

Something stirs in my stomach: anger. Anger of a sort I have not known in a long, long time. That, and...an ache, in my chest. Sadness. Horrible, suffocating—sadness.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian," I whisper, soft enough that only I can hear it, but I pray harder than I have ever prayed that he can hear it, too. "I'm...so sorry..."

A sob breaks from me. I disregard pride now, and let myself collapse onto the palace floor, curling into a pathetic bound ball not unlike Sebastian himself, in that horrible room, surrounded by the ruins of his wings.

I whisper my apology into the floor, over and over, tears falling like rain from my eyes.

_I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry, so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you so much, Sebastian, and I have killed you._

_I have killed you._

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Present Time

Lucifer looked down at the wailing child with an expression of satisfaction and superiority.

Lilith released her trademark sadistic laughter, her eyes shining with blood-lust and something else no one wanted to understand.

She then aimed her whip at the two stricken humans, and ordered them to get back on their feet.

"I see that neither of you are fit for 'our' consumption. I want you two to make yourselves useful elsewhere – until your 'lord' returns with our emissaries." Lilith declared, then looked toward Lucifer and waited until she received a nod of agreement. "You!" She yelled at one of the guards. "Take the bitch to the fighting ring, and throw in a cell. The one our pet raven used to be."

"What should be her assignment?" The guard asked.

"Keep the warriors entertained. Give her to the winners of each battle. I don't care what they do with her, so long as they keep her alive. We will summon her once Stolas returns." Lilith ordered the guard, and watched the horrified expression of the woman as she was taken away by the guard with a smirk. The other prisoner – the man – closed his ears with his hands as the wailing of the woman slowly faded away.

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*Continue on to the next chapter: Chapter 9i– "Watching the Scales Tilt – SEBASTIAN"

*Coming up – Sebastian finally turns his back on Hell and its rulers.


	11. Chapter 9i Watching the Scales Tilt

*This is the first half of this chapter. In the previous chapter, it was Ciel who was expriencing everything. This time, it is Sebastian / Stolas' turn.

*As always, reivews are welcomed with open arms.

*I apologize in advance for any grammartical mistakes and spelling errors that have escaped my attention.

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 9i: Watching the Scales Tilt – STOLAS/SEBASTIAN

Written by Second Wind

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_The Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street_

_London, England_

_Same Time_

"You might be wondering why in the world I, a temporarily reinstated, formerly very highly-regarded, death god, am bothering with a complicated case such as yours."

The Undertaker challenged. His slightly curling lips added an air of mockery. Stolas remained expressionless, save for the slight twitching of the eyebrows.

"Actually, I was. …Until you told me of my true origin. But then, it still does not justify the fact that you are endangering your reputation, your career, your subordinates, and maybe even your life, for the sake of me and Ciel." Stolas's eyes danced with curiosity, and Undertaker decided to humor him.

"…You know, I really can be merciless, and most of the time, I am."

"Merciless?" Stolas's eyebrows jumped again, and Undertaker nodded.

"Yes."

"As you should be. You are among the highest of all Death Gods." Stolas stated matter-of-factly.

"Ask me why you should be begging me for mercy." Undertaker grinned.

"I really don't deserve to, but… 'Why'?"

"Because, Prince Stolas – or, in this case 'Demon Butler: Sebastian Michaelis', you have an overwhelming support in 'high' places."

"Excuse me?" Stolas was genuinely surprised.

"During your time with Earl Phantomhive, nearly all of what you two have done was done for good cause, and you two have unknowingly made this world a whole lot better place than if you two had not joined force. In fact, prince Stolas, you would not have been alive, had it not been for the contract."

"Pardon?" Stolas narrowed his eyes in question and confusion. "I honestly do not follow."

"What did you think those cult members were trying to do by summoning a demon?"

"To do as they wish." Stolas shrugged. The corners of Undertaker's mouth dropped a notch.

"…Yes. With you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know about the underground pool that was in the building?"

"I smelled water, but I was too busy…"

"…Caring for the near-death Earl."

"He really was one step away from bleeding out."

"Which masked the scent of the water's properties."

"Which was…?" Stolas waved his hand in the air to emphasize his growing impatience.

"Holy water."

"Holy… What? Why?! They summoned me…!"

"Yes, to weaken you, then exhibit their tortures on you, and use you until death. If they succeeded, they would have made a huge fortune. The Earl was just a bait. They were also going to take your body apart after you eventually 'expired' and sell the pieces off in the black market. In a really similar fashion to how the Earl was to be treated."

The Undertaker kept his tone dry for the prince's benefit, but it failed to take the sting out of this piece of truth.

"How in the world did they think they could actually 'get me' to take the wretched plunge in holy water?"

"They had various tools with them to restrain demons – although, none of them would have worked on you." Undertaker smirked. Stolas laughed humorlessly.

"Let me guess. Holy objects of various kinds, iron restraints, liquefied mercury, that sort of thing?"

"They did not summon 'you' specifically. They did not know who they were getting."

"Obviously. And, you know all this because…?"

"One of our staff – a much lesser-ranking death god, one such as Grell – had his death scythe stolen from him. We did not have the specific location of the ritual, but we suspected that something like this would have occurred eventually."

"You believe one of the cult members I have devoured had it in his or her possession?"

"Well, we 'did' recover it at the scene of the crime. It was easy to find, since that dagger they cut up the Earl with was it." Undertaker watched as Stolas's expression darkened further.

"... Still, they would not have had me in their hands." Stolas dropped his gaze, no doubt berating himself for not noticing it.

"But, you know that if they came at you, all at once, while you were busy feeding on the boy, and stuck you with the death scythe, followed by buckets of holy water to force down your throat…" The Undertaker let his sentence fade out.

Stolas calculated the risks, and sighed heavily. Death scythe truly was capable of killing him – or wounding him seriously – if it went into his chest, neck, or severed a vertebrae. …Perhaps badly enough to have him trapped. Then, they could have just kept wounding him and kept him within the pool of holy water to keep him weak.

Something – a thread of old memories stirred inside his psyche and Stolas chased it until it escaped him, leaving him once again in oblivion. He gave up. "But, I chose to side with the 'bait', so they did not succeed."

"Not only that, but… Do you remember actually praying?"

The Undertaker asked gingerly, knowing this would most likely ruffle the feathers of this raven.

"WHAT?!" Stolas bolted out of his seat, his eyes wide with shock.

"You prayed. To God. For Ciel."

"Don't be ridiculous." Stolas bared his fangs in anger, and his eyes held a dangerous glint.

"You might remember yourself thinking: 'This pain is the finest spice', while Angela was yelling, 'This pain is praise to God!', and you were thinking: 'This blood is the finest sauce' while Angela was yelling, 'This blood is the finest offering.'"

Stolas grimaced, remembering the sensation of the cursed whip tearing into his skin and the flesh beneath. Not to mention the terrible discomfort they left in the days thereafter.

"I think you were more damaged and vulnerable than you yourself believed to be. Angela was right."

This got Stolas's attention – and _recollection_.

"OHHHHH…. Damn me." Stolas pinched the spot in between his eyebrows, and sighed deeply.

"You know that you already have. You prayed: 'Bless that lonely, tainted soul.' …Of course, you probably don't remember actually blacking out after that, do you? Even just for a short while. Angela tried waking you up with the red-hot iron sticks, but did not succeed. It was really dawn by the time the wicked angel was done with you."

"So, that is where all the burns came from. I must have been out for hours. I did not notice her leave."

"While you were unconscious, your prayer was delivered – unhindered by your demonic conscious mind – to the right beings"

Stolas's head snapped up with realization.

"No wonder Abberline showed up on the ship. …_Heavens_ moved him!"

"Abberline is also one of your strongest supporters. Along with his guardian spirit."

"But, I am _a demon_! Even if I am a half-breed, I still am _a demon_!!" Now, Stolas was stumping his feet in frustration, but he himself could no longer think exactly why he was stressing this point himself. He knew he should be recognizing these facts as something of a compliment, but the demonic half of him – the half that he had so long felt 'right' to dedicate himself to, was still searching for some kind of a ground to hold onto. It was utterly confusing.

Undertaker decided to set the facts straight.

"…Yes. A demon prince, with an angelic heart. You did not even think about your safety, nor your own soul. Your only concern was for Ciel."

With that, Stolas was again stunned into silence. 'It is true, and it still is.' Stolas thought. He sighed, closing his eyes in defeat. 'My dear Ciel. What would your reactions have been, if you were here with me?' Stolas stopped his reminiscing when he heard Undertaker speak again.

"You know, since Angela was still an angel, your prayer had a borrowed express-route to Heaven. However, even if you had been alone with either Randoll or with that torturer, your prayer would STILL have been heard by the right beings, because there was no mockery or lie or dishonesty in your prayer. It only had sincerity and honesty.

"You defied numerous attempts to tempt you by the angel 'Ash' and you never once gave up your contract even under torture. You were always diligent in your duties, and never once truly harmed him, nor acted for entirely selfish reasons."

"…Wait. Stop right there. You are making me sound like a saint of some kind."

"Did I give you permission to interrupt me? I have allowed you to interrupt me to this point, but have you noticed at all, that you have not asked for permission to do so?"

"…"

"I am telling you all this, because you need to know what you have done, as well as what was done to you. Before facing your final judgment, Prince Stolas." Another glimpse of the death god's eyes shut him up immediately.

"…Very well. I beg your pardon for my interruption."

"Granted. …You saved not just London, but the whole of Europe and maybe the world beyond from further destruction by refusing to join force with the angel Ash. …You see, your 'friends' in 'high places' consist of higher beings of both ends. We, the Death Gods, had an embarrassing offense against you because of Grell Sutcliffe, and the heavens had the same with Ash/Angela.

"Your contract holder's aunt was killed unnecessarily by Grell Sutcliffe, and the Earl of Phantomhive was falsely accused of assassinating Victoria, the Queen of England, whom Earl Phantomhive served faithfully – at least until Ash tampered with her soul and brainwashed her completely. The Earl's parents had been murdered by Ash / Angela. The cult group which bought, confined, tortured, and attempted to murder Earl Phantomhive had associations with the angel, as well."

Stolas's mind worked furiously, figuring out the pieces of the big puzzle that has become clear to him. The resulting picture did not look particularly appealing. What the future, which looked grim as ever, held in store for him, for Ciel, and for the other souls he had kept in the palace, and what of his son's soul occupied his busy mind.

'I have already forfeited my life. …So, what can I do to protect those souls that are my properties? What will happen to my own soul?' He asked himself, because he simply was too frightened to ask this to the Undertaker just yet.

"You know," The undertaker began, "King Edward the 5th and his brother Richard send you their support, as well."

Stolas looked up, his mind halting in its effort to solve the seemingly unsolvable puzzle, and focused on remembering the young King of England and his sweet brother. Stolas had to admit, he should have been nicer to them. He stared at his hands silently.

"The brothers think of you and your Earl very highly, and they have been very vocal that they would not have 'passed over' and joined their kin in heaven, had it not been for your support."

The Undertaker paused.

"You have also managed to gain some friends within the Death God Management, prince. First by successfully aiding Matilda Simmons' soul to go to Heaven – at great cost to your own mental and physical health. The process actually aided in cleansing your own soul a bit, as well. Secondly, you have gained favors with us when you saved William T. Spears from what was to be a certain and very slow and painful death right in front of my own eyes, and chose to keep that a secret from Spears in fear of upsetting him."

"That was different! It… sorry. Please go on." Stolas shook his head.

"You sidelined your own grief over losing your best guard, and came to Spears's rescue. And no, it is not different. You snapped to action after I told you that Spears was 'hurt'. You are an expert at healing, and you responded accordingly. Not only that, but if you just wanted the tracer out, you could have just stopped with the removal of that offending bug. Instead, you stayed on and finished the entire surgery without anyone asking you to do so.

"We do notice these things, Prince Stolas, where it counts. Besides, as you heard my superior say, Spears really is one of our finest officers and I shudder to think what we would have lost, had we really lost Spears right then."

Seeing that no word was forthcoming from the demon prince, the undertaker continued.

"But, what truly blew me away was the fact that you had help from a foreign spirit. A Hindu spirit, as a matter of fact."

This had a desired effect, as Stolas raised his head to face him.

"Do you mean…?"

"Someone you have helped had a long family history of serving God."

"Agni?" Stolas raised his eyebrows in question. Undertaker nodded his confirmation.

"And his lord …Well, more like his 'charge'."

"You mean, Prince Soma."

"They are both held in extremely high regard right now, what with their charity efforts in rebuilding London and to feed the newly-homeless. I hear that your Earl Phantomhive had been housing them in the London townhouse?"

"Yes."

"You 'cared' for them… and 'educated' Prince Soma while you were with them?"

"I set him straight, it seems."

"…That, you have. Because of that, you have helped quite many people in quite many countries whom the prince and his butler will be visiting in the near future. We expect great things from Prince Soma. …Every action causes a reaction, as we say."

"….."

The Undertaker was thoroughly enjoying Stolas's reaction, seeing that his temporary charge was being 'prepped' accordingly to his secret plan. "How did you get them to accept the child?"

"I did not have to explain much. …I told them what and who I truly am. Agni was about to kill me, but Soma never issued the kill order, and let me explain myself to them. Their God was once a blood-thirsty goddess who hunted down a tough demon. Her husband Siva did bring her back to sanity, but the mountain of carcasses she had piled up before her sanity returned put her very much at odds with Heaven's rulers at one time. …And this particular goddess is the one they worship.

"I was very fortunate, because naturally, Agni and Soma were more open-minded about this particular child than anybody else. …However, there is something I must know right now. Once I am actually sentenced, how will you actually make that 'final judgment'?"

"Well, we first release you from our protective custody. I assume that someone from your side of the world will come to get you arrested. Then, you will be going through …whatever legal procedures that your 'king' sees fit to put you through."

"I am telling you. He will torture me, then execute me. Period. If he is in a merciful mood, which I highly doubt, then he will let me put my affairs in order before the execution."

"That shouldn't be difficult to accomplish, seeing as though you have very little possessions left down there." Undertaker commented drily.

"Did you have to rub that in? At this point in time?" Stolas hated the whining tone in his own voice, but it could not be helped. The Undertaker put up a hand in a gesture of apology. Stolas sighed.

"For however long you are kept alive down in your king's territory, I cannot touch you."

"In other words, no matter what horrific deeds Lord Lucifer will do to me, you will not be compelled to rescue me." Stolas confirmed in a flat tone. To which, Undertaker shook his head, his voice falling flat.

"Sorry, prince. That is the rule."

"…Fine. So, what you are saying is that I cannot come to you, unless I die first."

"You are correct. Unless you become 'a soul' that actually needs judging, I cannot put you in our custody again."

"How do you know that Lucifer himself won't devour me?"

"You are half-angel. You wouldn't taste good, nor do his body any good. You would most likely cause severe indigestion in Lucifer's body."

Stolas wisely elected not to comment.

CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i

_Office of the Great Death God_

_Death God Management Headquarters_

_Unspecified Location, England_

_2 Hours Later – Earth Time_

William Spears was more than shocked when he reported to the Great Death God's office and found what awaited him.

"Are these…?" Spears asked, pointing to the items lined neatly upon a glass table near his great superior's desk. The stern, aged figure of the great death god remained still, but he did not object when Spears approached closer to the items.

"Yes. They arrived here a short while ago via an emissary who was sent directly to here from the Elder Demon Coucils – which Prince Stolas used to belong as an advisor of sort to Lord Lucifer."

Spears stopped dead in his tracks.

"…So, these items do belong to Prince Stolas himself, and as the formal attire. These cannot have arrived in preparation for his coronation ceremony."

"No, they certainly did not arrive or that reason." The great death god shook his head solemnly.

"Then, may I ask why…?" Spears let his sentence fade out, not wanting to continue.

"Along with the prince's attire, this arrived."

The great death god said as he handed Spears the official document. Spears did not have to read it to know what it was. When he reached the bottom of the document, his eyes locked on with the familiar signature of the king of fallen angels, Spears narrowed his eyes and did a double-take.

"This was …signed by blood, in place of an official ink." Spears raised his head to confirm the fact with his great superior. Receiving a nod, Spears scanned the signature with his right hand, and felt the entire signature echo with his memory.

"This is human blood, and obviously belonged to someone I have either handled or known personally."

Another nod from his great superior narrowed down the list of candidates to one.

"For this blood to be on this particular piece of document, and taking into account Lord Lucifer's love for mind games, I take it… that Prince Stolas's palace is now in complete ruins, and that the 'secure room' which the prince built for Ciel Phantomhive's soul was also invaded."

"That is our assumption, yes."

"Which also leads to the assumption that – Lady Echidna and Cerberus captured Ciel Phantomhive and took him to Lord Lucifer's palace for …interrogation. …And I assume that …whatever Lord Lucifer did with Ciel Phantomhive got him the confirmation he needed in order to sign this, and used the boy's blood in order to do so."

Each word tasted like acid in Spears's mouth. The situation was becoming less and less appealing, and his great superior's expression mirrored his own.

"Do you…? Did you… summon me for… You want me to deliver these to Prince Stolas _and_ give him this?" Spears couldn't keep his voice straight, and didn't know why himself. It was not every day that Spears had any trouble forming words.

"I would have done it myself if I could, Spears." His great superior said, simultaneously giving Spears no way out of the situation. Spears sighed.

"Although I… should have been overjoyed for the occasion, I somehow find it difficult to… feel any pleasure out of this situation." Spears admitted, puzzled that he was feeling this way at all. The great death god nodded.

"Believe me, after all the finer details came into light, no one wanted to do it. However, we cannot have just anyone do this. It also should come from someone whom the prince trusts, or at least knows."

Spears sighed again. "I understand, sir. I will get to it right away."

With an uncharacteristically heavy heart, Spears pocketed the previously wax-sealed document and the bundle of clothing gingerly.

"Oh, and Spears?" The great death god stopped Spears in his tracks.

"Yes, sir?"

"Mind the cloth satchel. If you touch the item inside with bear hand, you will most likely be dead on the spot. At least, that is what I was told by the emissary."

Spears narrowed his eyes at the warning, but nodded and slang the satchel from his shoulder before continuing on his way.

When Spears leaped back into his own office, his assistant was waiting.

"Sir Spears, this message just arrived from the messenger pigeon." The young man handed Spears a message from Undertaker. Alarmed, Spears set his parcel down and opened it immediately, then sighed for what felt like a hundredth time this day alone.

"I will deal with this one myself. I will be gone for the rest of the day, and I am not sure when I can return to this office next time. Send me only your best messengers and only in regard to the most important matters. Is that understood?" Spears instructed his subordinate sternly, and the younger man immediately straightened his posture before answering.

"Yes, sir."

With a nod, Spears again collected the items for delivery, and leaped for the Phantomhive Townhouse in London.

Spears was greeted by the sound of a laughing baby, Prince Soma's laughter, and Regina's half-hearted caution for Soma to 'go easy' on the baby boy. As soon as Spears appeared, however, everyone stopped moving. Spears sighed again.

"Ms. Regina… Excuse me. Lady Regina?"

"Yes, Mr. Spears?" The 'adopted' daughter of Stolas replied in a business-like manner.

"We… I will need for you to be informed, without delay, of the following matters." Spears said as he opened the document for the Valkyrie half-breed to read. She blanched the moment she read the heading.

"One, an emissary arrived from the Underworld, informing us, the Death God management Department that an official warrant which allows the execution of one Prince Stolas to be carried out had been issued, and this is our copy of the document."

"OH, MY GOD!!" Soma exclaimed and ran out of the room to get Agni.

"Secondly, if the baby still requires 'feedings' off of the prince, you will need to hurry because the date of execution – although not concrete – is set as 'within the next 2 months'. That is, only 2 days in the human world."

"OH, MY GOD!!" Soma repeated. Regina was too shocked for words.

"Thirdly, there will be no chance for the prince to defend himself for this offense, because the offense is classified as among the worst of crimes to be committed by a demon, and especially not by anyone of Price Stolas's status. Furthermore, they seem to have concrete evidence of this crime which, we suspect that they have obtained when they captured Ciel Phantomhive."

"WHAT?!" Soma strode forward until he came right up to Spears. Spears continued with his unhappy duty.

"This death warrant was_ signed_ with Ciel Phantomhive's blood. That is the positive proof of our theory. Lastly, Lady Regina, you will need to come with me to the prince's location. Although we will do the best we can to delay the process, another group of emissaries will be arriving within the day to arrest and take over the prince's custody. We can no longer hold him in our protective custody once they arrive. Besides…" Spears paused, organizing his thoughts. "Besides, I believe he will need your help when putting these on." Spears gestured toward the bundle in his arms. Regina narrowed her eyes, but nodded.

"I'm coming. Besides, the baby does indeed need more blood from him. I will deliver it back to the baby." She answered, trying to stay – and sound – strong. Spears nodded back and gestured for her to come with him, but then changed his mind and approached the now-eerily quiet baby, observing the infant.

"I must admit. …I have never seen an offspring of a demon …be fated to bear such destiny and… carry so many burdens… for all of us." Spears spoke softly, before offering Regina his arm and leaping, not without so much as a nod of acknowledgment to the Indian prince and his butler who just came running into the room.

CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i CH9i

_Undertaker's Shop_

_An unnamed street_

_Downtown, London _

_England_

_Three Minutes Later_

Stolas's reaction to the news of the emissaries arriving from the Underworld, and the death warrant Spears presented him with, was a typically stone-faced expression, and without a fuss.

"Just as I expected." Stolas nodded.

…That was, until he furrowed his eyebrows upon seeing the familiar signature at the bottom of the document. Spears mentally braced himself and shot a warning glance to the Undertaker, who was examining the same document.

Stolas surrendered the document quietly to the older death god when the man reached for the piece of parchment, but both Undertaker and Spears felt the force of pure rage blaze through the condemned prince, and actually stepped back to a safe distance.

An unfortunate metal box which was in the direct collision course with the prince's gaze began to melt with a hiss. However, the death gods could take a good guess at who the prince was actually seeing with his fiery eyes. They weren't disappointed.

"_**Your Majesties…**_" Stolas ground his fangs as he bit off each word. 'First, you _lied_ about my origin, then _murdered_ my real mother, and allowed Lady Echidna to _invade_ and _trash_ my territories.' Stolas flared his nostrils in utter rage. 'Then, you had to do _this_ to me!'

Undertaker looked around his shop, and the two death gods began hearing the very air of the room – along with every object in the room – began releasing their complaints due to the amount of energy they were being subjected to.

"Prince Stolas, stop!" Spears cautioned their temporary charge, but Stolas was beyond listening.

Each word out of the demon prince was like bubbles of molten lava bursting out of an active volcano. "If you thought that taking away my most treasured soul and subject him to who knows what would break me down, you were sorely mistaken!" …Then, he finished his thought aloud for all occupants of the room to hear. "_**You**__**have crossed me once too many.**__"_

The two death gods stiffened when they felt the very ground they all stood on trembled, then looked each other quickly before looking at Regina, who stayed firmly rooted to the floor. The death gods realized then that she had seen the prince in this state of mind before.

"Stolas! Don't release so much energy in here, on this portal site! It's not safe!" Undertaker yelled, hoping also to bring the enraged prince out of his wrath. Everything was hanging in a fragile balance, and they could not lose this particular creature to darkness so late in the game.

"My lord!" Regina knew what to expect when her adopted father was in such a level of rage, and knew that only she could bring 'him' back. However, still unable to find anything suitable to say, she threw herself into his arms, instead. She began moving her hand, palm flat, over a trembling Stolas's back. The two death gods could hear a faint voice from her which sounded like a chant or a song, or maybe a string of complicated spell, coming from her throat. Her other arm was kept over the back of his head, the fingers busy caressing his hair which stood at attention due to the sheer force of the energy Stolas was releasing.

For a while, all the three other occupants of the room heard was Stolas's heavy breathing and the deep growls that sounded unlike any earthly creature. However, Undertaker could see that the 'pure rage' this prince was broadcasting had its origin in equally pure 'love' for the late Earl, and 'grief' over his soldiers, his subordinates, and his real mother's demise. Furthermore, Stolas never pushed Regina away, and that was another encouraging sign.

In another 5 minutes, Stolas was back to his former self: hair flat, irises back to chocolate brown, breath normal, and above all, 'approachable'. The only difference was, he was tired from the exertion of energy as well as from the energy he was still using in order to 'contain' his former rage.

Once again, Regina and Undertaker came to the tormented prince's rescue.

"My lord, your son needs to feed." Regina said, knowing how and what to say in order to capture Stolas's attention. Stolas locked gaze with her, silently thanking her for anchoring him to sanity. Undertaker smiled inwardly at seeing the exchange.

*To be continued to Chapter 9ii

New source of inspiration (For me, at least): "Soon, You'll Go" by Howard Jones


	12. Chapter 9ii Watching the Scales Tilt

*Thank you, first of all, to everyone who has chosen to add this story which belongs to both myself and to GoodbyeMyHeart, on their respective favorite story list.

*Please also be noted that GoodbyeMyHeart has published a book of her own. It should become available for purchase really soon, including through Amazon. Look for "Common Nonsense" by 'Askance'. She has her own Livejournal acct. Please message her, congratulate her, and then ask her for any updates.

*I once again apologize dearly for the confusion and troubles regarding the previously posted segments. I will be careful not to let it happen again. …However, I am not Sebastian, so I may just do it again. In which case, I will make corrections immediately.

*Latest source of inspiration 1: F. Chopin "Piano Concerto No.1 in E minor, Op.11". (Chopin wrote this number while thinking about the time when he was fleeing his home town of Warsaw, Poland, because his father was in the resistance force. Frederic left there only 3 days before the city fell.)

*Latest source of inspiration 2: P. Mascagni's Opera "Cavalleria Rusticana". (Not for the story plot, since it's all about adultery and revenge, but for the beautiful melodic passages in-between…)

*Latest source of inspiration 3: Liszt "Faust" Especially the 3rd Movement: "Mephistopheles". With Radio-Symphonie-Orchester Berlin; 1992 recording. (I don't feel the need to tell you why.)

*To all of you Spears fans, please be noted that he will be making a lot of appearance in this and the next segments. This part is almost a SebXSpears story. : )

* * *

"Secret Yearnings of Souls"

Chapter 9ii: Watching the Scales Tilt – STOLAS/SEBASTIAN

Written by Second Wind

_The Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street_

_London, England_

_Three Hours Later - Earth Time_

William T. Spears worked as quickly and as silently as possible. He had been doing so for some time now, just turning the pages of his notebook over and over, adding some lines while stopping all movements once in a while to simply take in a sight he never thought he would see, or thought he could actually tolerate.

Prince Stolas, whom Spears had known as 'Sebastian Michaelis' the angel/demon cross-breed was zonked out sleeping. He was resting peacefully with his head settled over a thin throw pillow, which was currently settled over Spears' lap.

There was a series of events that had gone into the development of this situation. On top of it all, Spears was under a strict order from Undertaker not to move. Therefore, Spears had to work while watching the - 'sleeping beauty' as Undertaker called 'it' - curled up sideways in a fetal position.

* * *

*3_ Hours Ago_*

Stolas eyed the parcel Spears still held. Stolas was also holding his tongue, which was a first. However, when his eyes settled on the satchel Spears had, and cautioned the man to be careful with it.

"I have no idea how they brought it up here. That thing can kill you if I am not mistaken about its identity." Stolas commented dryly. Spears shrugged it off, and put it on the couch.

"These seem to be clothing for you." Spears said as he began to lay them down piece by piece next to the satchel.

Undertaker had been quiet and looking grim, but approached and inspected the clothing closely, nodding to himself. Spears continued.

"It is my… unhappy duty to announce, Prince Stolas that emissaries from the Underworld will be arriving here, sometime today. Your… sentence is set to be carried out in less than two months, which makes it less than two days here. As soon as the emissaries arrive, we will no longer have the authority to hold you within our custody. Which means you will be placed in their custody immediately."

Spears hated the fact that Regina was growing upset, judging by her obvious effort to hold back tears.

"Sir Spears, please take Regina back this instant. She does not need all 'this'." Stolas announced, and tried to ignore Regina's glare. Spears adjusted his eyeglasses.

"Your son still needs to feed off of you, Prince Stolas. Apparently, he is not up to the point where he can drink blood from anyone but you. Besides, I do not believe you can get into your formal outfit without help." The young death god reasoned, actually not wanting Stolas separated from the only being that can get him under control.

"…Oh." Stolas' expression fell flat, his sigh audible as he rolled up his sleeve.

"Try the flask." Undertaker said as he handed Stolas the 2-liter glass flask. Stolas took it and punctured his vein with his fangs, and began collecting the deep red liquid.

"Do not just give me one. Give me as many as you have." Stolas said, his voice sounding unintentionally harsh.

"Well…" Undertaker tried to continue with the rest of his sentence, but refrained from uttering another word when the prince glared.

"I do not give a damn what you all think. My blood will only be wasted where I am going. Also, seeing as though there is not much time, I will give him as much as he needs, and right now. I also do not care one bit if you over-feed him, so long as he does not get an upset stomach or vomits everything. He will die of starvation if he does not get my blood. I am not going to be responsible for killing him." Stolas raised his voice with each word, and even Spears swallowed visibly at the intensity in the prince's once-again glowing eyes.

"All right, prince. Have it your way." Undertaker sighed and began looking around the shop for more flasks, all the while readying more of the healing drinks he fed the prince earlier on. He also enlisted Regina's help to give her something to do. She let Stolas lie down on the couch first and then hurried over to the back room to assist the portion making.

As everyone predicted, Stolas was breathing quickly after the first flask and cold-sweating by the time the second flask was filled. Regina kept casting healing spells on him, and fed him the healing potion to help with the recovery.

In the end, it was Spears who forcibly put a stop to it after Stolas fell flat on the couch upon filling up the 3rd flask. Undertaker wasted no time taking Regina back to the Phantomhive townhouse in London with the harvested blood, even as she kicked and spat insults at the death gods. This arrangement served them well, for Undertaker had much to discuss with Prince Soma and his butler Agni in regard to the latest developments and future arrangements.

Now, Spears found himself alone with one gasping, sweating, and utterly miserable Stolas. With Regina gone, now the prince was without the support of the healing spells she was casting on him. This was probably what was making Stolas worse than he could be. Despite her pleading, however, Stolas actually forbade her to return here, since it was too risky in case the emissaries arrived while she was present.

As much as he hated himself for it, Spears sighed – yet again – and sat beside Stolas and began rubbing the prince's back in a circular motion. At first, Stolas flinched at the death god's touch, but soon stopped resisting and went back to the task of regenerating more of his fresh blood.

Spears found a towel nearby but it was not clean. He sighed again and took out his own handkerchief from his breast pocket, then began to wipe the prince's forehead where drops of sweat were running down his face and neck, just as the rest of his body.

"Mmmmm…" The prince moaned and turned his body in a fetal position, facing the backrest of the couch and letting Spears stroke the rest of his back.

* * *

*2 Hours Ago*

Undertaker returned alone, and saw them in their current positions. Undertaker raised his eyebrows at the unlikely scene. Just as Spears was about to get back on his feet, Undertaker ordered the younger man to stay put. Not only that, but Undertaker put a throw pillow over Spears' lap, and physically put Stolas' head on it. Spears expressed his displeasure with a silent glare toward his superior, but he was met with Undertaker's retreating form as the older man headed toward the backroom while whistling.

"What about lady Regina?" Spears asked Undertaker in a hushed tone. Undertaker replied as he returned to the main room, carrying a stack of paperwork that needed to be completed before the emissary arrived.

"We agreed that she needed to stay out of here. She made me swear we would take good care of prince Stolas, and that we would… well… help him get dressed when the time comes." Undertaker grinned at Spears' bewildered expression.

"But, sir…"

"No buts, Spears. Besides, I have a lot to do here that cannot wait. Lady Regina told me Stolas should know exactly what to put on, and where. Do what you can about him. If he can nap, that would be best."

"A nap? You must be joking!" Spears protested, albeit in a hushed voice, his hand still working in a sweeping motion behind the said prince's back. Undertaker raised his eyebrows again, and gestured toward Stolas with his chin.

"Then, what do you suppose he is doing right now?"

Spears looked down at his lap, and was startled to discover that the raven prince was, in fact, fast asleep. The older death god smiled indulgently at the sight, then went about the shop, this time collecting some cinematic record books. Undertaker handed one of them to Spears, and pressed his index finger against his lips when Spears tried to ask questions.

Spears was about to protest when Undertaker motioned for Spears to 'read' the cinematic record. Understanding what the older man meant, Spears nodded and opened the book. Undertaker grinned and went into the back room only to return almost immediately with arms laden with empty flasks and several sealed jags full of the healing potion which he had been making with Regina earlier.

When Spears was one-third of the way through, he stopped and closed the book, his eyes full of questions for the older man. Undertaker nodded in understanding and pointed to the still-sleeping Stolas, then motioned for the younger man to keep reading the book. Undertaker then scribbled on a piece of spare parchment:

"_Fallen angels – whether they became one willingly or not, all have brown-covered books just like humans. Only the legitimate angels have white-covered ones._"

Undertaker then handed it to Spears who read it, and furrowed his eyebrows before opening the book again and reading the rest.

It was another fifteen minutes before the expression on the younger death god's face went through a drastic transformation and the pace with which he turned the pages grew exponentially. Undertaker only stared at the younger man and waited until all the questions concerning this particular fallen angel were answered. With a huge sigh, Spears closed the cinematic record and nodded toward his superior. Undertaker nodded back and retrieved the book he was not supposed to show Spears in the first place.

Spears closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat as if to digest the huge piece of confidential information he just swallowed.

"Please let him sleep for fifteen minutes longer, then wake him to harvest more blood. After you do, give him another half an hour to recover while I will take the blood back to the baby. We will operate on that cycle for as long as possible." Undertaker said, and went back to work. Spears nodded and adjusted his eyeglasses before lowering his gaze down to the still-sleeping Stolas.

It made strange sense, now that Spears was finally supplied with the missing piece of information, that this demon prince became a raven. It was a mystery to him from the beginning, because none of his other clan members had wings or any ability to fly without employing some type of external assistance. Asmodeus, despite his love of humans, was a true demon through-and-through. Therefore, the dark blood of Asmodeus, plus the pure blood of an angel, resulted in a black bird.

Spears wondered what it must have been like for Stolas to be forced to watch every second of his own mother's execution so up-close, and scolded himself for even thinking about it. 'After all,' he told himself, 'it is what we do. No matter what atrocity a soul has seen and experienced, no matter whose soul it is we are observing, all we do is act in accordance with God's orders. There should be no room for 'emotion' to crowd one's judgment.'

It was easy for a practiced officer such as Spears to split his work from his private life cleanly. His colleagues were either jealous of his achievements or regarded him as a heartless snob, but his superiors all loved him, and kept showering him with compliments. This was in fact the first time since he graduated top of his class from the Death God Academy that he was having any sort of emotional reaction toward any particular soul.

Spears then wondered what it would be like not knowing half of his own life, and decided not to delve too deeply into the subject – for now, at least.

It was also understandable now, why Undertaker was risking so much, and why their superiors were looking for every loophole in the system to save this creature, for Spears knew that that was essentially what they had all been doing. Spears grudgingly admitted to himself as he looked down at Stolas again, that he had become a 'willing accomplice' - instead of a 'forced participant' as he saw himself before - in this seemingly futile mission.

* * *

*_1 Hour Ago_*

Spears sighed, utterly exasperated, as the prince muttered something and changed his posture, now facing the ceiling directly and his body flat on his back atop the couch.

"Oh, for God's sake…!" Spears whispered, now finding it even harder to concentrate on his work.

This was the creature which Grell Sutcliffe routinely risked his career for. For that, Spears despised the prince. However, now that he was spending so much time with 'the thing' up close and personal, he could see why someone as naïve as Grell would fall head over heels in love with it.

Before Spears knew about Stolas' true origin, he had no idea why this demon smelled differently compared with other demons, or why he behaved as if he had a modicum of conscience, or why he would end up loving a human. Now, however, Spears had the answer and a whole new series of questions regarding this particular being.

Spears never felt this way about this creature before, but he felt himself shifting toward what Undertaker called 'a mother hen mode'. The older man knew this part about Spears - which Spears himself regarded as his own weakness, and always tried to hide at all costs. William T. Spears had a mothering streak. This might have been why Grell Sutcliffe became his to supervise.

As for the main reason why the demon prince ended up sleeping comfortably on Spears' lap even though demons routinely went without sleep for ages before going dormant, there was the 'excessive and repeated blood loss factor', and as the great death god had commented, the 'used to being taken care of while not on contract' factor, which the prince's 'adopted daughter' has proven earlier.

Then, there was the 'continuous stress' factor, which Spears knew to be quite draining to demons whose nature did not allow them to be 'patient' or 'forgiving'. Furthermore, demons needed to constantly feed off of humans, unlike angels who could always get nourishment (from fruits and divine light called 'astral' rays) that come from God directly, and replenish whatever else they needed from their 'food' which are commonly called 'ambrosia', or 'food for the divine'.

Being a cross-breed and never knowing that fact must have burdened Stolas' system doubly hard. Spears used to wonder what reasons might be behind the fact that Stolas was still placed in the 'upper-middle' rank while being assigned duties that were among the highest in the Underworld Society's Christian kingdom. The biggest mismatch for this raven prince had been what he was capable of doing – as well as what he has been doing – and his rank. Now that Spears had most of the answer, he could not help feeling even more disgusted towards Lucifer.

Stolas shifted a little and sighed contentedly, then muttered something when Spears put Stolas' arm that had been dangling off of the couch back to his side. Spears swallowed hard at an unexpected tightening of his chest, then reached for a charcoal stick and a sketchbook on which he had been drawing earlier for the report on his assault, and started to draw. He only had about twenty minutes before he had to take another two bottles of blood out of the demon prince, and have them delivered to the Phantomhive townhouse.

Looking at this defenseless and utterly vulnerable version of Stolas, Spears could not help but pray that whatever grand plan their superiors seem to have would work in the end.

When Spears heard the familiar 'swoosh' sound that announced the arrival of Undertaker, he put down the sketchbook and the charcoal stick to pay attention. Apparently, the baby was fine in the maid's care, and was happily feeding on his father's blood. Prince Stolas stirred upon hearing the two death gods' talk, and automatically began undoing the cuff button on his shirt sleeve. And the process began anew. However, this time, Spears insisted the prince to do so while lying down.

"Thank you." The prince mouthed before prickling his forearm with his fangs.

"Just …do not get used to it." Spears replied before shifting his eyeglasses.

* * *

*_Present_*

When Stolas next opened his eyes, he caught the sound and sight of Spears running his hand over his sketchbook again and felt puzzled for a split second before a yawn escaped him. He quickly killed it out of embarrassment. Spears stopped drawing and met with the prince's gaze. Seeing that the younger death god was not about to speak, Stolas let a small smile grace his tired face before getting up and stretching. Spears cleared his throat and adjusted his eye glasses before speaking.

"Prince Stolas, I need to help you to get ready."

Stolas looked puzzled for a moment before nodding his understanding.

"Of course, Sir Spears."

"Just 'Spears' is fine, Prince Stolas." The young death god offered, still dealing with the whirlwind of emotions in his chest. Stolas looked stunned for a second before nodding again.

"Well then, 'Spears', just 'Stolas' will be preferable." Stolas replied in return. Spears nodded.

"Very well. If you please, 'Stolas', allow me to assist you with the clothing while you take a bath in the backroom. You really reek with all the sweat and… whatever else that your body was releasing." Spears spoke while placing each article of Stolas' outfit one by one on the table. Stolas nodded and opened the door to the back room, then proceeded to the small room where he had used the tub earlier. He was mildly shocked to see that tub was already filled with some type of fragrant liquid solution mixed with mint water. Stolas twirled a finger to test it, and found it still suitably warm.

"Yes, that was prepared for you by my superior." William answered when asked about it. Pleasantly surprised, Stolas quickly got out of his business suit and gratefully sank into it. He then completely submerged himself in it to clear the thoughts storming inside his head, and sighed inwardly.

* * *

Stolas wondered if what he was going through was similar to what every other death row inmate might feel while awaiting ones' own execution. Thoughts on the 'could have', 'should have', and 'would have' raged in equal force with 'hopes', 'wishes', and – he admitted to himself – 'prayers'. His survival instinct and self-preservation instinct were screaming at his conscious mind to save himself. But those voices were overpowered by his logical and rational mind and by his strong feelings for Ciel Phantomhive which allowed him to act calm and collected.

The one thing that was threatening his carefully crafted calm exterior, however, was the unwanted memories from his recent past. Although for Stolas, 'recent past' consisted of the past 100 to 300 years. This fragrant bath solution – which he is beginning to identify as a mixture of not just mint and lemongrass, but also a myriad cleansing ingredients for the sweat and grime, and about an equal amount of detox solution infused with some powerful spell to maximize their effects – was stirring some memories from darker parts of his daily life back in the Underworld.

While Stolas was actually with Lucifer and was working for him, it was almost always 'business'. However, it was what came afterwards that he hated, because it was all about 'service'.

Noble Demons paid for their 'protection' that was provided for them by Lucifer. This payment was in no way restricted to precious and rare gems or trinkets, although those were the most common forms of payments. No, they actually paid with whatever Lucifer desired of them. Some with hard labor, some with slaves, some with gold and crafted jewelry, some with warriors, while others with knowledge and intelligence, some with precious skills, and loads of weapons.

Out of these areas, Stolas contributed in at least 5 areas: his skill and knowledge in healing, while he helped judging the quality of precious gems, and whenever scholars requested his assistance, he helped with his knowledge in astronomy. He was also notorious for his battle prowess and spell-casting skills which Lucifer valued very highly. However, what Stolas hated the most was what was requested precisely once every week from him, on top of 'special occasions' which were his skills in providing physical pleasures, as well as 'his total obedience' while providing such pleasures.

Not being in any position to argue with the king – especially not after whatever consequences that he has suffered after somehow 'failing' Lucifer and his entire family - that was exactly what he ended up providing, off and on, for the past several centuries.

Although, now that Stolas was supplied with a big piece of information to reconstruct his missing memories with, he supposed that his birth mother's botched attempt to escape Hell with him, and the execution afterwards, led to Stolas losing his wings and whatever 'privilege' that came with his status were lost. It was already bad enough that his own father had been caught and then banished for the crime of loving a human being.

It would not have been so bad, if Stolas only had Lucifer to deal with. However, such occasions were rare, because Lucifer used Stolas not just as a mate, but also as an entertainment – for other creatures whom Lucifer himself either felt charitable, or owed favors to.

It could be a group of succubus who couldn't get enough of Stolas' taste, or a high-ranking noble demon who just wanted to 'try the experience' of mating with him. Sometimes it would be diplomats from other religious kingdom, or it could be a noble of some forgotten dying race of demons - for demons without any believers or followers do disappear - that just wanted Stolas to impregnate her. (In which case, of course, they would keep the identity of the mysterious 'sire' secret.)

Stolas knew that Lilith was extremely jealous of his popularity as well as his 'skills' in providing physical pleasures to the king of fallen angels. She let him know just how much she loathed him – and at the same time lusted after him – through her sessions with him. Stolas always found it peculiar that Lucifer did not actually leave Lilith alone with Stolas. Not even once. Whenever Stolas had to share time with Lilith, there was Lucifer – either as an active participant or as an observer.

Lucifer's refusal to let Lilith actually 'mate' with Stolas was also peculiar, but Stolas always supposed no one but Lucifer himself was granted that privilege. Or, that Lucifer did not want Stolas to accidentally impregnate her, but that was a big 'if'. …Maybe Lucifer had been afraid of what Lilith might do to Stolas, if she was given complete freedom with her husband's pet raven. This was a much more plausible theory, judging from the way Lilith enjoyed putting Stolas in bondage gears of all types and force-feeding him a cocktail of drugs, only to torment him until he was screaming his throat raw for release for hours at a time.

However, such private entertainment usually ended with one of two ways. Either Stolas was exhausted, drugged, unconscious, and was brought home by either Lucifer's steed or his own; or that he was exhausted and drugged, but was conscious enough to get home by himself.

On bad days when Stolas was beyond coherent thought or speech, Regina would ready a detox bath not unlike the one he was currently soaking in, and cast spells to ward off whatever infections or illnesses that threatened to further weaken him, followed by a 'thorough and meticulous' cleaning with sponges and brushes of all shapes and sizes. She even used smooth glass sticks that were thin yet sturdy enough to ply open his mouth and rear end, so she could see what damages had been done to him, and how to get them treated. Then she would take samples out of his body to determine what drugs were in his system.

Regina would then dispatch Stolas' best guards – including the one who lost his life here on earth - throughout the territory to gather necessary herbs, nectar, seedlings, small animals, and even body parts of vicious creatures that would be needed as ingredients for medicines she would be making. That raven always came back with exactly what he was asked to bring. Even when it was the rarest ingredients so poisonous or dangerous in their original form, that even Stolas himself had to be cautious while handling them.

The only difference with the 'better' days was that he did most of the aforementioned tasks himself. However, whenever he was drugged and needed counter measures to neutralize the effects, he could only issue instructions on what he needed and how to make it, and then hope that Regina and his guards get it right. So far, they have never been wrong.

Most drugs Lucifer and his 'special guests' used on Stolas was a variety of arousal-inducers, depressants, stimulants, and hallucinogenic drugs that made his heart race, his mind hazy, threw his sense of balance off, blurred his vision, caused dehydration, headache, nausea, shortness of breath, and the worst of all, refused to give his body the release it so needed. Even when he was allowed release, it did not mean 'they' were done with him. Therefore, the whole experience never ended until either party dropped unconscious, and 8 out of 10, it was Stolas who dropped.

For this, whenever Regina asked questions on what happened to him, he explained everything in exact detail to her. He had abandoned all inhibitions and whatever desires for privacy on the matter of his physical and mental health ages ago, although 'that' particular privilege was given only to Regina and no one else. In a way, Regina probably had far more knowledge about his body – and how to restore it - than anyone else did.

However, aside from his guards and legion leaders who governed each of the 26 legions belonging to Stolas under a set of rules Stolas himself has written for them to follow, Stolas did not have any 'advisors' whom he could count on. They were each loyal to him, and were very much skilled at whatever duties they were given to do. However, what he lacked most of all was a 'confidante'. This was why Stolas kept Ciel's soul alive.

Up until that very moment when Ciel voiced his final request, Stolas was never convinced that Ciel would be tough enough to take it. However, once he really saw what Ciel was made of, and actually tasted the very soul who compelled him to 'be better' at everything, he realized Ciel was already an essential part of his life. What he was afraid of more than anything else now, was letting Ciel down. He thought of those piercing blue orbs and the determined gaze, and the memories of rare moments where Ciel actually behaved like any ordinary child his age, and felt his chest tighten.

The other thought that kept him from losing his mind completely, was the thought of what Ciel Phantomhive might think if Stolas did indeed broke apart and started going berserk, screaming to the high heavens to save him. No, Ciel would never go down that path.

Although Ciel was screaming for Stolas to 'abandon' him and Stolas' entire territory and run, he was doing so out of love. Nope, the old Ciel - the one who had served the Queen of England as her 'watchdog' - would never disgrace himself that way. The old Ciel, whom Stolas regarded as 'the real Ciel', would have expected much better from his 'lord', and Ciel would never approve of the said 'lord' to act weak or disgraceful in any way.

Now that Ciel was not only held in the palaceof Lilith and Lucifer, but was getting hurt, Stolas was never going to let that pass. The Ciel he knew would have expected Stolas to fight, and fight well in the manner worthy of Ciel's loyalty and love, against those who betrayed them both - regardless of the final outcome.

And that was exactly what Stolas was planning to do.

**'Ciel Phantomhive,'**Stolas thought, **'I will have you, _and them_, know just how much you mean to me'**.

* * *

Out in the main room, Spears heard the familiar 'whoosh', and turned toward the door. Undertaker has returned with his arms now laden with emptied – and cleaned – glass flasks, and a large glass jar filled with a mysterious substance.

"Is he in there?" Undertaker asked the younger death god, and Spears nodded.

"Yes. He has not caused me any further trouble so far. He also seemed to appreciate the bath. His suit is drenched with sweat, and I fear it is a health hazard for us, so I refrained from touching it." Spears commented dryly as he adjusted his eyeglasses. Undertaker giggled.

"Sharp as always, I see. Yes, I was actually going to ask you to burn them all."

"Pardon, sir?"

"They actually are health hazard to us death gods, and to angels. I would not recommend humans go near them, either." Undertaker grinned wider, enjoying Spears' expression of confusion.

"…Sir, what exactly did you give to Stolas?" Spears asked, now feeling a bit uneasy. Undertaker raised his eyebrows once he noticed the subtle change in the younger man's behavior.

"All in good time, Spears. Just know that whatever I put in there will help the prince. Tell him to soak in it for a good while. You will know the result as soon as he comes out. In the mean time, put on those old leather groves 'over' the black leather ones you are wearing right now, and throw everything the prince took off into the incinerator and turn them into ash."

Spears remained silent as he went about his job of opening the door to the back room and collecting the discarded clothes. Stolas seemed not to have noticed Spears' presence, and he exited the room without saying a word to the man and proceeded to the opposite side of the building through a narrow passage. Once he was at the crematory part of the building where his superior burned small body parts and other unwanted objects that needed to be burned. He located the box of long matches, and held his breath as he threw the items into the flames.

Out of curiosity, Spears stood at a safe distance from the now locked incinerator and watched the items burn. He took three steps back as soon as he heard something release what could only be described as a 'gurgling', mixed with the distinct noise of someone – or, in this case _something_ – choking to death. Spears shuddered, and regretted leaving his death scythe behind. He closed the door to the small dark room when something actually 'banged' harshly from the inside of the incinerator in an effort to get out. Spears elected to wait out in the hallway until all became quiet.

After checking inside the room again to see that whatever presence he detected earlier had indeed gone away – or died – he peeked inside the incinerator through the small sealed window to find a pile of ashes and the soles of the shoes that still had not burned away completely. Spears sighed, then returned to the room where Stolas was still soaking in the bath water, seemingly oblivious to all that was happening around him. Spears fought the urge to smack the raven prince in the head, and quickly returned to the main room.

"Sir, I have done as I was ordered, although the shoes are still burning." Spears was secretly proud of himself for keeping his voice neutral. However, Undertaker giggled, looking right through the young man's troubled gaze.

"You saw something very interesting in there, did you not?" The older death god stopped his hands and waited for Spears' reaction. Spears sighed, nodding.

"Yes, sir. Something seemingly evil was banging on the walls of the incinerator, but I do not believe it got out. …Is Stolas all right? He seems to be completely oblivious."

"Leave him be. What just died in front of your eyes was a part of Stolas that should have died a long time ago. That recovery drink Regina and myself have been feeding Stolas was not just to aid his recovery from blood loss. "

"I beg you to clarify just what died in front of my eyes." Spears persisted - which was something rare for him. Undertaker raised his eyebrows.

"What do you think it was?"

"I have no idea, but it was certainly something powerful, evil, and something that grew over a long period of time."

"Perceptive as ever. You are correct." Undertaker nodded, but did not elaborate. Spears gave a frustrated sigh.

"I cannot put a name to such a thing."

"It was actually a combination of a few things." Undertaker said as he raised a finger. Spears saw that this was another one of his Superior's 'challenges', and resigned himself to it.

"The incinerator uses fire, so it cleansed whatever that came from the prince, but he himself seems to have been completely unaware of losing them." Spears began to analyze the situation. "The properties of that healing drink were mostly natural herbs, medicinal plants, distilled water, and some healing spells that I cannot yet identify."

"That is where you are getting lost, Spears." Undertaker interrupted Spears' train of thoughts.

"Pardon? ...Where did I lose the answer?" Spears knitted his eyebrows, now getting honestly frustrated. Undertaker giggled.

"I told _'him' _that it was packed with added 'healing spells' . I never clarified what spells I put in there."

"Just what did you use?" Spears could not imagine his superior doing anything harmful to Stolas intentionally. Not at this point in time.

"You know a large part of Stolas' life, because you heard it from him, and because I told you myself. What is the biggest reason for Stolas 'being' Stolas?"

"Genetic reasons." Spears answered immediately. Undertaker tilted his head a little before shaking his head.

"That is only a half of it. Maybe even less, if you subtracted the circumstances that made him what he is. So, what else?"

"Psychological reasons." Again, Spears answered without missing a beat. Undertaker nodded this time, but he was far from letting Spears off of the hook.

"Yes, they were. Could you specify them, please?"

"...Lord Lucifer keeps Stolas at a lower rank than he should, yet gives him high-profile duties. Stolas must have noticed the gap himself. ...Which tells me, he could not have been enjoying his life down in the Underworld, although he did maintain his territories and kept performing his duties."

"You know that, if Stolas really wanted to, he could have just resided here on earth for eternity without ever returning 'home' like any of his fellow demon lords." Undertaker threw another piece of the bigger puzzle in the younger death god's way.

"Do you mean, that he actually 'enjoys' being enslaved and be taken advantage of in every possible way?" Spears' eyes narrowed in honest disgust. However, this did not fit with the way Stolas blatantly spoke against both Lucifer and Lilith earlier. "That does not make any sense. There has to be some other reason."

"Ask yourself this, Spears: any and all creatures with a soul - regardless of how it is damaged, cracked, tainted, or partially lacking - shares certain basic components. So, what does a soul have to have, in order to reside in the Underworld - while being willingly tethered to the being which the soul despises the most?" Undertaker leaned closer to the younger man, making him feel slightly uneasy.

"...A whole lot of patience, self-discipline, fear of his rulers, and something to keep his mind off of the discomfort - all of which Stolas has in abandon. He hunts for souls by forming contracts, which allows him temporary escape from Lord Lucifer." Spears finished. This much was fairly common among all hell's creatures who had enough abilities and privileges to enter the realm of the humans.

"You are not too far off course there. Just one more thing. Why do you think he has kept himself at his current position, without ever questioning Lucifer about the way he was being treated?"

"Family history?" Spears answered immediately.

"Dig deeper." Undertaker further challenged the younger man, leaning further toward him to emphasize his point. Spears knitted his eyebrows in concentration.

"...It is a disgrace for any demon clan to have an offender of such a heavy crime. He must have been ashamed of his father for getting himself banished. At the same time, Stolas must have been ashamed of himself for getting into trouble, and thus losing his wings while he was still very young. Although, I understand that he did not know about his attempted escape from hell with his mother until the truth was explained to him by you." Spears was now thinking aloud, which was also rare.

"Deeper, Spears. Remove the excess meat out of your thoughts, and stick to the bare bones of the fact." Undertaker commented, seemingly getting bored. Spears was getting increasingly annoyed.

"His shame, then. Anger at himself for his own stupidity. ...Self-loathing." Spears took a quick breath as realized that he had the answer. Undertaker nodded in affirmative.

"Exactly."

"His shame and self-loathing? Or his shame, anger, and self-loathing?"

"The former."

"So, the fire killed those two strong emotions in Stolas' psyche. How did they get isolated out of everything else that Stolas has? And how did your 'healing drink' aid in that process?" Spears demanded answers, feeling that he deserved them for correctly answering Undertaker's question. Undertaker moved his index finger in the classic gesture of:'tsk, tsk'.

"Because, Spears, everything else has strong ties to his 'love'."

"His... love?"

"You felt his anger when Stolas realized what had been done to Ciel Phantomhive. You felt his hatred toward his tormentors. You were unconscious back then, but when he was handed the remains of his best servant - which you yourself saw when you were first attacked - he was crestfallen. He certainly has 'lust' in him, but more than half of it was due to biological reasons." Undertaker clarified for Spears, his fingers toying with a tendril of his silver hair.

"So, the fire - both from Ms. Simmons' execution, and the incinerator... cleansed his soul? Is that what you are saying?" Now, Spears was bewildered.

"In this case, that was exactly the added benefit - although, not entirely. There's still a lot of 'that' still living inside his psyche, and in his soul."

"Sir, with all due respect, what is the meaning of doing such a thing? Stolas will be sent back down to the Underworld within this very day, dressed in his best clothing, and will be executed after going through whatever it is lord Lucifer has in store for him." Spears felt frustrated, but at the same time, a dozen theories were developing in the back of his busy mind.

Undertaker put his index finger against his lips to silence Spears, and Spears grudgingly nodded.

"Oh, and have the prince drink this. You can bully him into drinking it, or force it down his throat if necessary." Undertaker ordered the puzzled young man before putting the glass flasks on the large shelf along with a few other glass jars and flasks.

"He will most likely ask who made it, and what is in it." Spears suggested, and received a nod.

"Tell him Lady Regina made it for him, in Phantomhive's townhouse kitchen with Agni's help. Soma was throwing some vanilla beans, strawberries, and raspberries to mask whatever it is Agni put in there. Apparently, it was something that was passed through generations in his family as heirloom. I must be off again, Spears. Please keep the prince safe, and have him ready to go." With that, Undertaker giggled again and left a puzzled Spears as he leaped out of the shop.

* * *

Stolas snapped back to reality when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Spears looking down at him. Stolas was stunned, not having heard him approach.

"Is everything all right? You have been in that bath for nearly an hour." Spears spoke in a quiet tone, a very small hint of genuine concern showing in his normally cold eyes. Startled, Stolas' eyebrows jumped a notch.

"OH. I apologize I had not noticed the time. I will be out in …10 minutes. Thank you."

"Actually, the longer you soak in it, the better. It will be even better if you actually get your body cleaned, so that your skin will absorb more of the bath water without the grime getting in the way."

"Understood. Give me twenty more minutes." Stolas answered, grabbing one of the towels that had been left over a small counter for him, and starting to earnestly scrub at his skin. He smiled with appreciation as he registered his skin tingling pleasantly as soon as it was scrubbed.

"Noted." Spears replied back as he closed the door behind him.

When Stolas emerged with only a towel wrapped around his hips for modesty, Spears was already waiting for him with the clothing, and a very large glass filled nearly to the brim with something reddish-pink not unlike the prince's natural eye color.

"I was told to give you this by my superior when he dropped by while you were in the bath." Spears spoke as he handed Stolas the glass. He took it cautiously, eyeing the concoction warily. Seeing his expression, Spears' eyes narrowed in annoyance and he quickly added, "Lady Regina made that for you in the townhouse kitchen. Apparently, it is a berry-based energy drink."

Stolas' eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise, and he downed the sweet drink before putting the empty glass down on the counter with a small but genuine smile. Spears noted 'the difference' Undertaker believed Spears would notice. True to the older death god's words, Stolas now smelled even less like the demon prince Spears had known the first time they met.

"I have taken liberty of checking every single article of clothing they brought, because I was under orders to make sure nothing dangerous was hidden in them. After the bounty hunters attacked me, I couldn't take any chances."

"Oh. How is your stomach?" – The question was out of Stolas' mouth before he could censor it.

"Excuse me? What about it?" Spears seemed genuinely confused, which told Stolas that the man had not felt anything out of the ordinary since the emergency surgery.

"Nothing, really. When you got here, you had some bruises and… scars all over your body, including that spot on the back of your head." Stolas did not want to lie, but he did not want Spears to know exactly what had happened, either. Spears knitted his eyebrows in an honest effort to remember, then started cataloguing his condition.

"Well… aside from some decrease in appetite, increased desire to hydrate, and an aversion to all fried food, nothing."

"Stress could be the cause of it, but I highly recommend that you see a specialist if those symptoms worsen." Stolas commented, secretly feeling relieved. He was in a hurry to get out of this particular conversation topic, so he began to point out the first of the items to be put on, and Spears handed them out in order.

In fifteen minutes, Stolas was dressed as he should be – in his formal attire consisting mostly of soft black material with dark blue lining, and silver embroidering at the collar. Spears grew increasingly silent as each piece was put on by the prince, and could not help but wonder as he watched the process just what part of his body Stolas had inherited from his birth mother.

Spears had stopped questioning why he was willingly helping a demon dress himself, because he was in denial, and was actually aware of it himself.

The outfit on Stolas in no way offered much protection against armed enemies, but when he fastened the back gear which could only be described as a mantle of sort, Spears could almost picture Stolas at his throne, looking down upon his visitors.

Finally, Stolas slid the ring - which clearly showed his status - on his finger and pointed at the cloth satchel. "Please hand me that satchel, Spears." Stolas said and received a nod in reply. Once he took the satchel, Stolas ran a hand over the object through the cloth, and couldn't help the smile that broke over his face. He really was not mistaken.

Spears watched, mesmerized, as the satchel was finally opened and what he could only describe as 'vapor' came out of the opening. The vapor was quickly followed by the jugged edges of shining metal, and many sparkling gems making the entire thing glow. Spears watched as Stolas took the satchel off completely, and held the object lovingly in his hands. He touched it and gazed at it as if to commit every intricate detail into his memory before nodding to himself and turned to Spears.

"This here is my crown. I have designed it and helped forging it myself. Along with a group of craftsmen from my own territories and a few excellent human jewelry makers I recruited out of the circle of 'permanent residents'." Stolas explained to Spears as he showed the young death god the treasure, and put it over his head gingerly. When Stolas opened his eyes, they were back to their natural simmering pink over silver, his pupils now slit-shaped.

Spears swallowed uneasily at the sight, and the prince noticed the younger man's discomfort. "I apologize, Spears. This crown actually forces me to turn my eyes back to their natural colors, as well as my teeth. Its protective spells are too strong for my human self to handle." Stolas opened his mouth wider in an apologetic smile to show him the row of sparkling sharp fangs. His nails also grew into razor-sharp claws. Spears released a tiny gasp.

Stolas sighed at the younger death god's reaction, and took the crown off of his head to place it on the couch. However, to both men's lasting amazement, the couch jerked away from Stolas – or more like the crown – and slid half a meter backwards on the floor.

"Oh, dear. It seems this piece of furniture is more than what it seems." Stolas commented, and took one step back, then two. The couch grudgingly returned to its original spot. Spears cleared his throat and elected not to comment.

Stolas then placed it over the cloth satchel it came with, and set it over the counter next to the phone. This time, the phone complained by sliding to the opposite corner of the counter, but the counter itself did not budge. Stolas left it there.

"Spears? I have a favor to ask of you." Stolas spoke, his expression turning serious.

"What is it?" Spears asked, refusing not to wonder at why he didn't mind listening.

"My humans' souls. ...if you could help them in any way, please know that none of the three did anything truly evil. They are like Matilda in a way. David was an explorer who wanted to see the world, and his ambition, hunger for victory, and greed... to achieve what he had set out to achieve, got me the contract. After he came to dwell in my realm, he kept going on expeditions within my territories despite many warnings from me. He ended up collecting many interesting tales and 'prizes' as he called them, from his expeditions. He kept me entertained with his good sense of humor, and he got me through many a difficult time.

"Tasha is my ...mate, and ...well, ...an indoor servant. But she was once a noble lady who had a thriving career as a writer until that awful day when a group of conspiring nobles ganged up on her for reporting a corrupt politician to the authorities. I was watching the entire thing, lurking in the background. She did not summon me, but she was screaming for help. I did not spot any angel or otherwise holy entities out to help her, so I took her outstretched hand."

This was a sight Spears never expected to see from this creature, and it took a long moment for him to organize his response.

"I am not at liberty to promise if anything can be done for either of them, Stolas." Spears replied honestly, not having able to summon the energy to feel anger toward the raven prince. Stolas nodded in understanding - and also in silent plea for Spears to at least hear him out. Spears crossed his arms in front of his chest in an equally silent permission for the man to continue.

"As for Ciel... well, you know all you need to know about him from his cinematic record, and from our many encounters with both you and Undertaker. He was half-forced into the contract with me, in order to avenge his parents' deaths and his own 'would-be' death. He of course wanted his attackers to suffer as much as he had. Also, although I had not realized what it was until I got here, the reason for Ciel's untimely death is exactly the same as my own death - which will come soon enough." Stolas paused, letting his own word settle in his heart.

"...And, what would that be?" Spears asked, although he had a good guess.

"_Love_." Stolas answered, now with conviction and without a doubt. Spears remained silent. "Yes, it is. It has always been for love."

If Spears was to be honest with himself at this point, he would say that Stolas looked, for the lack of a better word, satisfied with himself and his own answer.

"Although," Stolas continued, "Ciel's love for me was half out of his blind faith in me, and half out of a rather childish 'crush' of sort. ...With a hefty amount of guilt sprinkled on top of it." Stolas' lips curled up slightly at the edges. William Spears snorted uncharacteristically, and he quickly cleared his throat to mask his own embarrassment.

A rather companionable silence fell upon them both, and they both regarded each other without words. Not long after, they heard a 'whoosh', and Undertaker returned. Speas stood at attention at once, and awaited his superior's orders. Undertaker grinned seeing Stolas in his formal attire and at the crown resting in his hands.

"Spears, please return to the Phantomhive's townhouse. You are being assigned on guard duty there. Please watch over Lady Regina and the baby boy. He is not rejecting Lady Regina, but just not ready to feed on her blood, yet. We have plenty of supply now from the prince, so he should be all right with what he now has." Undertaker commented, and saw Stolas sigh with relief.

Spears hurriedly collected the papers and half-finished drawings of Stolas before either of his audience could see what they were, and got ready to depart.

"Well, then, Spears." Stolas said as he offered the younger death god a hand to shake. Spears stared at t ofered right hand for a long moment before shaking it.

"Stolas." Spears replied, realizing that this will most probably be the very last time they saw each other. Then, with a nod to Undertaker, he vanished.

Undertaker grinned at their exchange, and motioned for the prince to be seated once again at the couch.

*To be continued*

* * *

*Next up – Time literally stops on earth. Spears meets with the arch angels. Ciel gets a powerful help from a surprising source.


	13. Chapter 10i Metamorphosis

*First of all, please allow me to thank everyone who has added this story to their favorite story list, and to everyone who has taken interest in this story enough to subscribe to the Story Alert. I am truly honored.

*Second of all, I must warn my readers that this chapter 'moves around' a lot. I apologize in advance for any confusion that you might experience.

*Yes, Franz Kafka is one of my all-time favorite authors. I also observe butterflies in my garden each year, and protect them from worm-eating bugs (especially the mantis) as best I can.

*This is precisely the segment I have imagined myself wanting to write a year ago. This and the image of Sebastian having a half-human baby and actually being happy about it were the images that gave birth to this entire story.

*The latest sources of inspiration:  
1: From "_The Four Seasons_ (or _Le quattro stagioni_)"; 2nd Movement '_Summer_' and 4th movement '_Winter_' by Vivaldi.

2: "_Clair de Lune_" by Claude Debussy.  
(Most strongly remembered from '_Seven Years in Tibet'_, the film…)

3: "_Symphony No.1_" by Brahms. (The number starts out with 'despair', but progresses to 'hope'  
and finally, to 'salvation'.)

4: Film: "_Hamlet_" – Kenneth Branaugh's version (I might have listed this before, but I watched it  
twice again recently.)

5: A film "_The Four Feathers_" – Heath Ledger's version, directed by Shekhar Kapur.  
(Sometimes 'a coward' in the public's eye might actually be the strongest – and just.)

6: "_1812 Overture_" by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky.  
(Note 1. Tchaikovsky's country of origin: Russia was invaded by Napoleon's troops in 1812 for refusing to obey his orders. Napoleon's troops suffered a terrible loss due to the efforts by the Russians to protect Moscow in the Battle of Borodino, and due to the severe winter weather in Russia, including their horses actually freezing to death along with their soldiers.)  
(Note 2. The most unique thing about this number is that both the Russians and the French have elected to use excerpts of this number for their national anthem. "_Bozhe, Tsarya khrani!_" for the Russians, and _"__La Marseillaise_" for the French.)

* * *

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 10_i_ : Metamorphosis

Written by: Second Wind

_Office of the Great Death God_

_Death God Management Headquarters_

_Undisclosed Location_

_30 Minutes after the Departure of William T. Spears from Undertaker's Shop_

The veteran death god did his best to conceal his excitement as he read the message which an express messenger pigeon delivered to him personally.

He immediately alerted his assistant, and then scribbled a note in the time it took for the said assistant to arrive at his desk.

He handed the young man the note, then specifically ordered him to guard it with his life until it was handed personally to William T. Spears in London.

He then watched the young man as he rushed out of the office.

Finally, the breakthrough they had all been hoping for was upon them.

* * *

_The Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street_

_London, England_

_Same Time_

Stolas' mind was busy plotting a plan for action against his rulers - an act worthy of both being called treason or a one-man _coup de tar_, but which he knew that neither Lucifer or Lilith would ever expect from their ever-loyal 'pet raven'. Surprise was his only upper hand, and his only weapon was his own mind – and the crown he was allowed to keep.

On the other hand, Undertaker was equally busy readying the barrels and barrels of holy water he had stored up in the basement storage room. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to need them – all of them – before the day ended.

'Besides,' Undertaker mused, 'you can never have enough holy water when you are faced with a bunch of hell's emissaries trying to take your treasure away from you.'

Both Undertaker and Stolas were waiting for a sign, although each was waiting for a different one.

Stolas looked up just as Undertaker rolled in the last barrel of holy water and brushed the dust off of his robe.

"Will he …Spears, I mean. …Will he actually be able to come to my son's aid from time to time? You know, in case you are unavailable for any reason, and Regina can't handle the situation?" Stolas broke the silence first, and Undertaker nodded.

"If you do have William Spears on your good side, you can definitely count on him. He, like your good self, does not lie." Undertaker waved a hand at Stolas to stress his point. Stolas gave him a tiny smile.

"I really do not know about the 'good self' part, but I thank you."

Undertaker took a look at the clock hanging on the wall beside the counter, and decided that this was as good a time as any to begin his 'final' experiment. Sometimes, the 'sign' which one waited for only appeared when the recipient met its provider – which was 'God Almighty' in this case – met half-way. Undertaker decided right then and there that this was just such a case.

Undertaker first took Stolas' black-covered cinematic record book, along with Ciel Phantomhive's brown-covered one and the equally brown-covered book which belonged to Stolas' birth mother. This very book was the one Spears had been reading a while ago.

"You have some reading to catch up on. Here…" Undertaker threw the skinniest book at Stolas who, upon taking the book, instantly realized to whom it belonged.

"This is Ciel's cinematic record." Stolas silently questioned why it was in the Undertaker's possession at this precise moment, but let it go for now.

"Yes. The one he kindly rewound. I much loved his narration. …here is another one."

The Undertaker threw another brown volume, this one much thicker.

"Whose is this?" Stolas raised his eyebrows in question, to which Undertaker only giggled.

"Read, and you shall see."

"…All right." Stolas narrowed his eyes a bit with suspicion. By now, it was easy for Stolas to tell when the old death god was plotting something.

"…And this one, too." The death God threw the remaining, big black-covered one at him, but it was positively vibrating with energy, indicating that it was still active. The presence of that cinematic record book of Ciel's, in addition to this one that had still been active, answered Stolas's question. His eyebrows jumped up a notch, realizing that the book was the thickest one.

"Yes, it is THAT thick. You seem to have forgotten a lot of your younger years."

"May I ask why you have it here, at this time?" Stolas had to ask, seeing all three books in this one room and knowing it was no coincidence.

"Well, you were about to be summoned when you first came in. I needed it for clarification, and for …aiding me in making the 'final decision'."

Stolas fidgeted a little before nodding.

"You hold onto mine. I will read the other two." Stolas said, and stretched out on the long coffin-shaped couch. He remembered then, that the cinematic records contained narrations - a mechanism of which was still a mystery to him. Stolas simply HAD TO know what Ciel had to say. He planned on working on his own next, to finally retrieve whatever memories he must have lost.

Stolas opened Ciel's cinematic record first.

Undertaker watched, secretly with a look of genuine amusement, as Stolas flinched upon opening the book, and was instantly enveloped in the first reels of film that came jumping out of the book. 'Such a strong soul', he mused. 'But, is it strong enough to save them both and … all of us?'

This was why the Undertaker kept dropping hint after hint to both Ciel and Stolas - That, the cursed ring which had Ciel and the entire generations of Phantomhives tied down and bound by their heavy collar would have the power to strangle the boy. Undertaker wanted them to come to him for help. It was the whole reason behind his staying in London in the first place. Of course, Undertaker had wanted to see the boy before everything came to an end, but he knew exactly how the boy chose his own ending - on his own terms, without regrets, unflinching and brave to the very last moment.

'What a perfect, perfect pair.' Undertaker thought, watching Stolas immersed under what looked like a blanket of cinematic record reels.

Undertaker giggled silently as he watched how the reels 'behaved'. Ordinarily, they returned within the book as each memory was played out. Instead, they stayed outside, as if each had a mind of its own. This was another sign Undertaker was waiting for.

Undertaker knew, just as he knew about Ciel, how this demon / angel cross-breed acted until the very end - honorably, gracefully, justly, respectfully, with heart full of anticipation, an overwhelming need to quench his starved self, sadness, and longing all in equal proportions, but also without regrets about his contract with Ciel Phantomhive …all neatly wrapped in a delicate-looking, yet unyielding quilt of love.

Stolas's anger, wrath, and ruthlessness in combat, Undertaker knew, all came from his hatred for the world he thought were out of reach. In a world utterly devoid of love and peace, Stolas had to channel all his wants and needs to whatever else was afforded to him.

Undertaker couldn't blame Stolas for not remembering his natural mother at all, because 'they' had beaten that part out of him, and what shell of this other self that remained had been ruthlessly trampled down to mere crumbs at the bottom of Stolas' psyche. …The crumbs which kept getting one hell of a boost for growth through his years with Ciel Phantomhive, and which - Undertaker hoped – will get another huge growth boost through his reading of Ciel's cinematic records.

It was no accident that Undertaker had those particular volumes in the shop at this moment.

Stolas closed the book once he had finished, and fiddled with his lower lip, obviously struggling with strong emotions. Undertaker let him be - until a loud gasp and a series of coughing sounds from Stolas snapped him back to reality.

The guttural, wheezing cough from the prince was followed by a short, but strong tremor that shook the entire shop like an earthquake. A Cheshire cat-like grin formed on his face as he looked at the clock on his shop wall.

It was completely _still_.

Stolas was coughing furiously, trying to get his breaths under control. The coughing turned eventually to retching, and Undertaker watched closely but calmly as the demon/angel crawled around the room, trying to breathe. Sweat poured out of Stolas' every pore as he kept thrashing, scratching, and grabbing at everything he could reach.

Still, Undertaker did not move to try and help the distressed prince. Instead, Undertaker grinned wider. _**'Metamorphosis'**_, as he knew this to be,** '**_**has officially began'**_.

* * *

_Secret Portal Site_

_Underworld to Earth_

_Undisclosed Location _

_Same Time_

The emissaries bearing the seal of Underworld Society's Christian Kingdom arrived at the portal site with their respective steeds, and a set of extra-heavy restraints meant for Prince Stolas. Their faces were grim, and their hearts – rather unexpectedly – heavy.

They expected to find the errant prince safely in the custody of the death gods, either broken down and scared, or broken down and resigned to his fate.

What none of them had expected, however, was being shut out of every portal site they tried. It felt as though they were being sealed shut from the inside.

"Are you sure, that you have the correct password?" The lead emissary asked impatiently as their guards tried for the umpteenth time to have the portal open.

"Yes, my lords. This is the password which Lord Lucifer provided us with. This cannot be wrong." The guard explained – partially in order to protect himself from the emissaries' wrath.

"Is there any chance that the death gods have 'changed' them at the last minute?" One of the lead diplomats asked, to which the rest of the emissaries shook their heads in the negative.

"No, my lord. They have no such authority."

"Send someone back to Lord Lucifer's castle and report our situation. This cannot delay any further. You must hasten." The diplomat growled, unpleasant theories developing in the back of his mind – the strongest and the most plausible of which just happened to be the most unpleasant one of all – a _divine intervention_. He swallowed hard, imagining the reaction of his king: Lord Lucifer.

* * *

_Office of the Great Death God_

_Death God Management Headquarters_

_Undisclosed Location_

_10 minutes later – Earth Time_

"My lord!" The young messenger who was dispatched earlier ran back through the door, startling the already flustered great death god. He could almost hear the sound of his composure cracking.

"What are you still doing here?"

"My lord, I have tried every portal, and they would not open! I swear I have never had this happen to me before!" The younger man looked ready to cry. In that moment, however, the older man realized he had been a tad too late.

"I think I know what is going on here. I am going there myself. Tell my assistant that I have gone on an extremely urgent business, but that I will return as soon as I can." He spoke as he began to get changed – into his rarely seen formal attire.

The younger man gasped upon seeing the outfit, and saluted his superior.

"Yes, my lord!"

The last he had checked, Phantomhive's Townhouse in London – where Spears was now stationed as a guard – had been linked directly through to the Death Gods' realm in order to afford faster, better protection for the Valkyrie half-breed and the son of Prince Stolas.

If he was correct in his assumption, the only way through which he could reach Spears was going (as in leaping) there himself, for he was the only one in all of Death God realm who had access to that particular place aside from Spears and Undertaker.

Once he had reached the roof of the Death God Management building, he looked upwards toward the higher heavens above to recite a prayer then looked down below, towards the realm of humans and other moral creatures. He then recited a string of complex spells, and secretly rejoiced when he felt himself 'swallowed-up' for the lack of a better expression, into the passage.

* * *

_Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street_

_London, England_

_3 Hours Later – Earth Time_

A metamorphosis was never a clean sight, and it sometimes went on for days on end.

Undertaker picked up the now-discarded and quiet cinematic record book, carefully dusted it, and laid it just as carefully on the counter beside him.

The scenes he was being assigned to witness would have knocked the socks off any one of the lesser ranked death gods, and he himself had only witnessed this process three times in his 5-milleniums' long career, not including this one. From the looks of things, this one seemed to be the worst of all four previous cases.

Every Metamorphosis involved two different species of supernatural beings, from the very opposite corners of the whole universe, that had a lot in common but with a completely opposing view of the said universe. These two species are at war with one another, as they had always been since Hell was created. History calls this type of war a 'Ragnarok'.

Currently, this 'Ragnarok' was being fought not in the outside world, but inside the body of a single creature – a single soul. Undertaker could not even begin to imagine what and how Stolas was feeling right now.

Undertaker knew that the Queen had been through something similar with the help of Ash, when she turned into a girl instead of her original, elderly self. She has died young in the end, but it was due to her Albert's flesh rotting away from her body and no external cause. With the case of Stolas, it had a few different twists than the past three cases.

First of all, none of the past cases had any aid from foreign spirit – Espeically not Goddess Kali's caliber. Second of all, none in the past was blessed to have so many 'well-wishers' in heaven, and certainly not so many among its human residents.

As for which side was more likely to win inside this former demon butler's soul, was anyone's guess.

However, judging from the way things looked right now, with Stolas covered in bodily fluids of all kinds and barely resembling a human being with two arms and two legs, but with everything else including the face constantly changing form - and having the most horrific of sounds constantly pushing themselves out of his mouth – or, what looked to be the mouth – the death god figured that the race was a close one.

Undertaker sighed and waited for the perfect timing to make the next move.

* * *

_Former Phantomhive Townhouse_

_London, England_

_Same Time_

The great death god did his very best to explain everything to the younger man, although the 'everything' had a lot of holes in it due to the extremely delicate nature of the current events.

In the next room was Stolas' son, Regina, and the Indian prince. Agni, the son of a Hindu priest and Prince Soma's butler, was down in the kitchen making supper for all of them.

Regina was unhappy about being ordered out of the room when the top of the heated discussion was her 'lord' and 'adopted father', but this time, her title did nothing to deter the two death gods.

They had all just been told that they could not go outside of the townhouse for any reason whatsoever, and that they would not be able to do so even if they attempted to.

Soma burst out laughing, saying how ridiculous it all sounded, until he tried the main door to the outside and found it would not budge.

Then, Agni spotted something from outside of the windows that stopped him cold. It took a long moment before the Hindu priest's son realized what it was, and how it was possible, and went to tell the young prince not to approache the door.

"Prince Soma, take a look out of this window." Agni said, his eyes still wide open, as he pointed outside. Soma grudgingly followed his butler's line of sight, to find...

"It's a bird!" Soma announced, delighted to see the green bird.

"So?" Regina asked, exasperated. "I've seen them everywhere since I got here."

"Agni, why is the bird not moving?" Soma asked Agni in confusion, just as the answer hit him full-force. "WAAAHHHHHH!"

"Prince Soma, I think - Time stopped." Agni stated the obvious. Regina came running toward them upon hearing Soma scream, which was quickly followed by one of her own.

"I ...I think ...I have a few ideas." She said trying to collect herself. Agni studied the seemingly frozen bird, paused forcibly by this sudden turn of events.

"Sir, just what are you saying?" Spears asked, feeling his blood slowly receding from his head, to pool around at somewhere close to his shoes.

"I am saying, William T. Spears, as your superior, that you are temporarily relieved of your duties as a guard here in the townhouse, and are assigned as my most trusted messenger – and an emissary – to the arch angel Raguel, who is most commonly known as the angel in charge of managing all legal affairs concerning all angels."

"My lord…" Spears sputtered. He felt like a fish that had suddenly been scooped up out of his freshwater pond and thrown into an open sea, struggling to breathe through the unfamiliar seawater. His superior shot him a cold look, and Spears sealed is mouth shut.

"I am not finished! I am also entrusting you with a confidential message addressed to Uriel, most commonly known as the chief of all arch angels, and most notorious for his abilities to foresee the future. If you can, try and get Sariel who is in charge of policing the mortals, and Raphael the healer, in the same room with you."

"But…! With all due respect, you should be the one to handle such a complicated affair!"

"I had planned to do just that. However, this is an event of an extremely rare occurrence, and I have come to realize that… you are ready for it. It is also because you need the experience more than I do. Go to them."

The great death god then removed the badge which bore the official title of 'a diplomat' from the lapel of his jacket, and personally pinned it on Spears' lapel.

Spears tried to remove it, but his superior's hand was quicker, and brushed Spears' hand away.

"Sir, this is too much responsibility for someone such as me!" Spears was adamant. He appreciated the opportunity, but he knew exactly what was at stake, and never felt himself to be 'ready'.

It would have been different if his superior was to go with him, but to be meeting the arch angels alone…

"Did I not make myself clear, Spears? Are you going to make me waste my breath? Time stopped here on earth. The only reason I got here, was because this place was specifically 'linked' to the Death God's realm, and only because the three of us had access to it. Also, above all, God saw this place as a part of our realm, and not the mortals."

"Are you saying that… This place should also have been 'sealed off'?" Spears asked, bewildered.

"Yes. Although, I must admit that Undertaker was the one who asked me to 'get a word to the arch angels' a couple of days ago."

Spears finally became aware – truly aware – of the weight of this fact. He cleared his throat, and asked one more time. Just to be sure.

"My lord, are you truly sure that I am the best you have for this mission?"

The great death god nodded, and patted Spears on his shoulder.

"Yes, I am. Now, you must really go."

"Then, you have my word that I will carry out this mission to the best of my abilities, and will report back to you as soon as I possibly can." Spears nodded, then clutched the document in his hand as his great superior uttered the words that sent Spears through the temporary portal – bypassing the Death Gods' realm – and straight through to the holy realm of the angels.

* * *

_Interrogation Room_

_Castle of Lucifer_

_Christian Kingdom - Underworld Society_

_A Week Later – Local Time_

_8.75 Hours Later – Earth Time_

As predicted, Lucifer's reaction towards the news regarding the latest development was extreme. Lucifer had a theory on what was going on, but what he could not fully grasp was what exactly set this phenomenon in motion. He knew there was something he had missed.

Lucifer ordered his subordinates to gather every record that was still kept within his realm in regard to 'Metamorphosis', and to summon the former owner of the being who was a successful case of metamorphosis. The creature had died after a while, however, during a battle. But he was a successful case, and a formidable 'fallen'.

Once the documents had been arranged in the conference room, he once again gathered the Elder Council, to mull over them and explore his options.

The five-hours long discussion session had not improved neither Lucifer nor Lilith's moods one bit, however, for it was clear now to both of them that they would most likely never get their hands on their 'pet raven'. At the very least, not in the form the prince originally retained.

Once a metamorphosis began, the first thing that will happen was the complete 'blockade' of sort.

This was done by God, and not just any God, but the 'God Almighty' – the creator of all universes and their creatures. This was, in short, what many refer to as 'divine intervention'. This blockade is done by sealing all portals through which the creatures of both heaven and hell gained access to Earth, and by ceasing all activities of mortal creatures by stopping the very flow of time itself.

This also meant that everyone outside of the earthly realm could carry on their respective businesses as they normally would; including the businesses concerning human souls residing in either heaven or hell.

"Well, then…" Lucifer breathed a sigh once orders were given and followed. Then, he turned his gaze to the still-shivering, pitifully-thin figure of Ciel Phantomhive.

Now that Lucifer knew what was most likely happening on Earth, and the creature who had caused Stolas' transformation, it was most plausible that Ciel Phantomhive still knew something that Lucifer himself did not. Also, frankly speaking, he needed something to do to contain his flayed nerves.

"Tell me, Phantomhive…" Lucifer got to his feet and once again began descending the marble stairs one by one with deliberate slowness. Ciel locked gaze with Lucifer's, unflinching even after the incessant assault on both his psyche and body. "_What else_ have you not told us?"

Ciel Phantomhive knew he had no chance of defending himself, if he did not play his cards carefully. The last thing he wanted was to have the king of fallen angels open up his memories again and discover his lord's secret.

"I honestly have not been here for long, and as you have seen earlier, I have never left that room my lord has kept me in. I do not understand the language of demons, either, so I could not understand whatever it was that raven guard Cerberus stamped to death was telling me. I have never even met the other two 'souls' until just now."

Ciel spoke as calmly and in a tone as close to neutral as he could possibly manage. In his mind, he kept his focus firmly on the face of 'Sebastian' he remembered from the night when he knelt in front of him and slid that repaired heirloom blue diamond ring back on Ciel's thumb. He knew that what Lucifer was seeing was what Ciel was picturing in his mind to see.

Next, Ciel pictured Sebastian looking down at him in the middle of the ruined cathedral under a blue sky, with the morning sun basking them both, after the first battle with Angela. That expression on Sebastian's face, showed Lucifer exactly what Ciel wanted the king to see.

Lucifer – for once, however – seemed to have lost all patience for the mind game, and kicked Ciel beneath his chin with the pointed toe of his boots. Ciel gasped at the pain, and felt several tooth cracking upon impact. Ciel cried out as the same boot came down harshly over his back, pressing his thin frame into the ever cold marble floor.

Ciel grunted as he tried to push himself off of the stone floor to breathe. Lucifer's boot then abruptly left Ciel's body for a few seconds, and he took a deep breath, but then the boot came crashing down once again, cracking several of his ribs and knocking whatever amount of air he managed to breathe in.

"_Why_ _you?_" Lucifer yelled as he delivered a series of vicious kicks to Ciel as if he was a rag doll. "_**Why did it have to be you?**_"

It took Ciel a moment before registering the fact that – as insane an assumption this might be – Lucifer was finally beginning to lose his mind. Ciel secretly basked himself in triumph, even as he received the incessant series of kicks, that he knew exactly what to say to lead this demon away from what Ciel was so desperately trying to protect.

"Because…" Ciel managed to utter between cries of pain, "You …did not …love him."

Lucifer roared then, and grabbed Ciel by the neck, ready to crash him. Ciel welcomed it. He wanted himself 'ended' right then and there, just so that he would be able to keep himself silent. Ciel had long abandoned any hope or desire to simply save himself, because nothing good awaited him here – except to see Sebastian one last time.

Now that it was dawning on Ciel that Sebastian – or Stolas – was becoming either 'inaccessible' or 'beyond reach' of Lucifer, it would do no good for Ciel to stay alive, because he was still a 'liability'.

It was not that Ciel was trying to commit suicide. All things considered, it was simply the best and the most logical course of action to eliminate the only source of information regarding Stolas' heir. He had so far failed Stolas so badly, and caused him much grief. He was determined to do at least this much for his 'lord'.

This was a big gamble on Ciel's part, because he was only able to assume that 'angels' could only examine the memories of the deceased so long as the subject's soul was 'alive', and because he was pretty sure through the experience with Madam Red's case, that no deceased human being had a cinematic record.

A familiar vicious crack of Lilith's whip sounded near his ear, and Ciel suddenly found himself suspended in the air by his bony ankle. Ciel fought to keep his mind collected despite the sudden loss of balance.

"Stolas was never worth such a frivolous thing!" Lilith whispered harshly in Ciel's ear, her every word dripping poison. Ciel fought to free himself, and ended up grabbing the end of her whip in both hands.

"No matter what else you do… to me or to him… you will still find yourselves 'losers'." Ciel's voice sounded more steady and calm than he felt, and he was secretly proud of himself for it.

Lilith's piercing gaze burned into his, and in the next moment, Ciel found himself crashing against Ciel was smiling in grim satisfaction.

"Then, I shall enjoy showing you exactly how wrong you are." Lilith laughed hysterically as she walked toward the plush chair where a goblet of freshly-poured blood wine awaited her. "With the kind permission of my dear husband, I shall …'take my pleasure', which he has kindly granted me earlier." She raised her cup to the still-enraged Lucifer.

"I shall be more than delighted, my dear, to show you – and this wretch – how his 'lord' came to be."

Ciel hardly managed to take another painful breath before he was once again plunged into darkness, Lucifer's sadistic laughter goading him on.

* * *

Lucifer POV

A dark and damp corridor stretched out before him as he made his way through the stone fortress. Myriad voices of various demons and other magical creatures who were occupying their respective cells all fell to their knees in haste to show their respect their king.

Lucifer despised them all – for these creatures were all offenders of the laws Lucifer himself had set for them to follow – but he also despised the heavy putrid air of the place. What he secretly longed for, was the fresh air he used to breathe in heaven, when he was still 'Lucifel'.

As his destination neared, he began to hear the by-now familiar screams of the disgraced raven prince.

Lucifer watched as Stolas struggled against the restraints, though any resistance at this stage was futile. The prince's eyes were wide-open, as they had been ever since he began screaming after his wings had been torn off. It did not help that Stolas' own body had sustained numerous injuries before his mother had been brought out to 'the stage' to witness his mother's execution.

Lucifer's aim was in making Stolas' mother miserable at witnessing her once-glorified and admired son be turned into a literal bloody mess, but that plan had horribly failed when she showed pity toward Lucifer himself and not her son. Besides, once the actual execution started, all her coherent thoughts and the power of speech fled out of her mind, thus making it impossible for her to think of her surroundings. Lucifer doubted she even registered her son' pleas or screams.

Afterwards, however, Stolas was fully healed and carefully kept at a weakened state, but still sane at the 'expert' hands of Lucifer's best interrogators.

It was a miscalculation on Lucifer's part that Stolas would actually lose his sanity after Lilith punished and 'fed' on him. Lucifer figured she had indeed made it as painful as possible for the one creature she despised more than the prince's angelic mother. Lucifer sighed as he watched what he was left with. Lilith sometimes went too far, even for his standards.

"Has he said anything …coherently?" Lucifer asked.

"No, my lord. All he has been doing is screaming his head off since we brought him out of catatonia."

"Let him be." Lucifer said without changing his expression in the slightest.

"Yes, my lord." The guard replied, bowing deeply. Lucifer was silent for a minute, looking on as Stolas kept issuing whatever the level of scream he could manage to issue out of his mouth.

"Get me the warden." Lucifer ordered.

"Right away, my lord."

The warden came rushing into the section Stolas was confined in.

"How may I be of assistance to you today, my lord?" The deceptively small-bodied but greatly feared warden asked, kneeling beside the king of fallen angels.

"Has he been fed at all since confinement?" Lucifer asked.

"We have attempted to, my lord, but he keeps screaming and does not seem able to keep anything down."

"Well, force-feed him, but keep him as hungry as possible without killing him. Also, try your best to 'break' him. I have plans for this one."

"My lord, you do not wish to keep him for your pleasure?" The warden made it sound as subtle as possible but the meaning was clear to Lucifer.

"I intend to manipulate him to suit my purposes, which includes physical pleasures. But I want his 'mind' and 'will'. Break him, but do not kill him or let him lose his mind for good. I want to rebuild him, in the way I want him."

"…That is… very difficult to do, my lord."

"That is why 'you' will be doing it personally. This one is special. I want him, but I want his 'other half' gone, destroyed, and left to rot."

"I shall… do my very best, my lord."

"See that you do. It also is recommended to keep him 'active' once his body recovers."

"Yes, my lord." The warden could no longer look Lucifer in the eye.

"Do not fail me." Lucifer gave him a stern look that clearly foretold what fate awaited him if he failed.

"…No, my lord." The warden resigned to his fate.

Thus, began the painstaking, millenium-long work of 'rebuilding Stolas', the raven prince and an angel/demon crossbreed.

Although being a mastermind of torture technique and psychological torment, it was difficult for the warden to know how far to take things before his subjects reached the point where the warden himself would not be able to aid them in recovery. So it was that Stolas was left – literally – screaming for years until one day his body began to lose the battle against physical exhaustion and loss of energy to keep regenerating whatever his body kept losing.

This was why most fallen angels – and holy angels – lost their lives and sanity when their wings were severed. Since the angels were entirely fed by their creater in heaven, they needed sunlight to function. Even if they did not have it handy, they could still achieve a comfortable existence through 'ambrosia' and various fruits that were readily available in the heavenly realm. They would of course lose a majority of their 'spell-casting' skills if their wings were lost, but they would not suffer enough to starve to death.

Once their wings and the light had been taken away from them, however, they very slowly starved to death. Stolas was only half angel, but it was still tough on his system overall to lose those wings.

The horrible gaping holes at Stolas' back simply refused to close up, and clear spinal fluids kept dripping out of the jagged holes. Things were made worse by the fact that the 'break' itself was not clean. What was left of the base had remained jagged, and the exposed nerve endings made the exposure to air alone a torture.

Lucifer received a panic call from the warden once Stolas's body began to fail, and Uphier was quickly summoned out of his deep slumber to patch him up. Lucifer still kept the warden alive, though, and ordered him to at least keep Stolas free of open wounds.

That alone took nearly an entire year to succeed. During this time, Stolas' mental health also deteriorated. He suffered from constant psychological trauma induced by his memories. Whenever he was being particularly difficult, the warden sent in humans for the prince to either torment, torture, or simply devour as a way of relieving stress and the ever constant craving for more souls to eat.

This worked well in the warden's favor, because the once-graceful, well-mannered prince Stolas became a fierce savage and a mastermind in the torture technique that rivaled his own. The way he devoured souls in that dark period became famous among the fellow inmates and made the elders concerned. Lucifer rewarded the warden well, and told the grateful demon to 'keep up the good work'.

After four years passed, the last of Stolas' physical ailment had finally left him, even though Stolas kept complaining for another century that phantom pains consistently nagged at him. Lucifer ordered the warden to release Stolas, but only in order to relocate the fallen prince into the building situated next to the infamous coliseum which had been built by Stolas' father: Asmodeus.

By this time, Asmodeus had been captured by the arch angels headed by Raphael in Egypt, and had been exiled. Lucifer was greatly disappointed by the news, for he had planned on enjoying himself by facing the once-great lord of hell to witness his son in his current state and torment him.

Instead, Lucifer came up with the next best solution. He converted the coliseum that was originally built for the purpose of performing art into a fighting ring where demons and other captured creatures of hell battled to their deaths in order to survive.

Stolas – who was still kept locked up in a lone cell, with chains secured to the ceiling nd ended at the collar fastened around his neck and both of his wrists, was always hungry for more souls and blood. Only at his feeding time, he was allowed to have his neck freed.

Lucifer appointed a group of trainers to set Stolas' body back in fighting shape, making him wield weapons and get his battle instincts and combat skills back to their original level. Stolas himself was grateful for the physical freedom he was given, that he never resisted any training that was assigned to him.

As a result, he was constantly driven into exhaustion by the trainers. That, and because any show of bad attitude toward his keepers were reported directly to Lucifer himself and the consequences of such instance was always an extremely painful session of whippings, which left him in more pain and humiliation.

Soon, Stolas' keepers began throwing him into the fighting ring even before Stolas was truly ready for such battles. Lucifer simply did not care and thoroughly enjoyed the sight of the once-graceful, revered son of Asmodeus being brought down to the level of common slaves who were being forced to fight for their lives on the very stage his father had built to watch something beautiful.

However, what was beautiful to Lucifer more than anything was the transformation of Prince Stolas.

It was clear that his plans were working. The angelic side of the raven prince was steadily disappearing, and the fierce savage he had known to be sleeping deep inside the younger man's psyche was being brought out of the dark.

Time, although Stolas would have more than desired to pass by quickly, seemed to be crawling its way through the daily monotony of fighting, recovering, training, and fighting again until he had won another day of borrowed time to go through the same cycle all over again. Lucifer was adamant about not letting the angel-demon crossbreed know exactly how much time had passed during the time Stolas had spent down in the dungeon, and in the fighting ring.

However, so much of it had passed that not one other fighter could ever guess just who this formidable, cunning, and by far the most vicious fighter truly was. His looks, the physique, and even mannerisms completely differed from the raven prince whom he had been prepped up to be. However, time – no matter how quickly or slowly – eventually passed and the 'millenium-long' confinement period of Stolas finally ended.

Lucifer had been busy prepping for his 'newest pet' to pamper him at his own leisure in his castle, so that he could further 're-create' and 'sharpen him' once again. He had sent for a group of wise demons and the best of Hell's leaders as well. The warden – who had still been kept assigned to Stolas' re-education program, was summoned to the castle to be told to have Stolas relocated out of his cell in the dungeon and into the castle. The extremely relieved warden got busy right away.

For Stolas, things were beyond comprehension. For one millennium, all he thought about were how to fight better in battles, how to recover quickly from injuries, and how to kill. Of course, when he had the time and the presence of his mind to care, he also thought about how not to offend his 'handlers'.

However, all of a sudden, he was greeted by a group of armed guards who took him out of his cell, and to his lasting shock, bypassed the passageway to the arena, and went in the direction he had never gone before – to the outside world – and to the great castle which was visible at a little distance away.

Once there, he had been taken upstairs, to the comfortable sleeping quarters which would normally have been reserved for high-ranking noble demons. Used to being led around in chains without any questions or a retort, Stolas kept his mouth shut and obeyed every order that was given to him.

Soon, he had been thoroughly bathed, massaged, dried and dressed in comfortable attire, and was told to rest awhile until he was called again by his 'lord'. Stolas nodded and obediently stretched out over the comfortable bed he was given.

Stolas was unsure about what to do anything else without offending anyone, so he closed his eyes and went over the hundreds of battle moves he knew in his head and guessed who his opponents will be in the coming days.

Stolas' mind was still working in full force that he at first did not hear the knock on the door, and one of the officers guarding the door to his room calling Stolas' name. He heard it the third time, however, and asked the man to come in.

"Sir, the great lord Lucifer is on his way. Please be on your feet and greet him with all due respect, and to do so in the manner fit for the lord."

The officer commanded, and closed the door again.

Stolas did not know hat to feel. He half wanted to escape the very room he stood in and other parts of him either wanted to hide, fight, and 'be pardoned' all in equal proportions. He tried to recall all the etiquette trainings he had gone through as a youngster, and could not place his 'past' with his 'present'. He frowned, trying to draw his mind back to the past which felt like a great dark void to him.

Where was his father, and his mother? …Stolas recalled seeing 'her', because his warden once pointed out to the serpent lady in the coliseum and told him that was his mother. Stolas remembered feeling the corner of his mind-and heart – tag at the thought, but had no room in his mind to care. Maybe they would let him see her now that he was in his lord's castle.

"Yes, we will let you see her." Lucifer said when Stolas finally was granted another audience with the king. "…in good time." Lucifer added, and Stolas dropped his head.

A hand placed under his chin brought his gaze up to meet Lucifer's. Stolas felt his breath hitch, but had no time to register the sensation before those blue orbs smothered his vision, followed by his thin lips.

An acute fear that was something akin to primal, instinctive fear, rose quickly in his heart, but he found he could not move an inch. He tried closing his eyes to escape Lucifer's penetrating gaze, but his efforts ended in vein.

Stolas half expected to have his soul sucked out and consumed right then and there, but that did not happen. Lucifer tasted Stolas' mouth briefly before pulling away with a satisfied smirk. The prince tasted like 'a brute' still. Lucifer was planning on changing that, as well. Starting with the prince's everyday routine.

"From now on, you will reside here, in this room, and obey every order I give you. Understood?" Lucifer looked as though he was 'asking' a question, but those eyes told a completely different story.

Stolas blinked in response. Lucifer let Stolas' chin go, but he was far from finished.

"I demand absolute loyalty from my followers. Are you going to remain loyal to me, and prove yourself 'worthy' of my protection, and of …your status?"

A little confusion sprouted in Stolas' mind, and he did not hesitate to voice it.

"You will have my loyalty, your majesty. May I …ask you to clarify what you meant as my 'status'?"

Lucifer snickered further upon hearing Stolas' question. The warden has outdone himself this time.

"What do you believe your current status is?"

Stolas' mind raced to form the words. It was difficult to do, since he could not recall any memory from before the time his supposed confinement occurred, and what was worse, he could only remember his father – but not his mother, other than the serpent lady he remembered seeing from not long ago.

"I… must have committed a grave sin, and had myself arrested. I remember my father, your majesty, but I …he must have disowned me for my crime because I had not seen him. …From what I can figure, I …my status is as a sinner, which …explains why I was among the common slaves."

Stolas averted his gaze in shame and missed the victorious look on Lucifer's face.

"What do you remember about your father?" Lucifer tested the waters. Stolas lowered his gaze further before replying.

"He …we lived in a huge castle. He as one of the greatest of all demon lords and I …must have been there until I left for …whatever assignment or a mission I went out on, and failed him and my family name."

"That you did. Spectacularly, I might add." Lucifer added for good measure and Stolas closed his eyes in shame.

"I cannot remember his name, your majesty. But, it might be better to stay that way."

"Your father is the great demon lord, Asmodeus."

Lucifer supplied the information without missing a beat, then watched as Stolas' eyes flew open and his jaw dropped.

"I …my …Lord Asmodeus, is my father? Then, that lady whom I was told was my mother …she is...?" The question hang in the air for a painful second as Lucifer savored this 'new version' of Prince Stolas.

"She is Lady Echidna, the mother of Cerberus and is the daughter of divine though foreign, kingdom."

"Your majesty, then I must have surely been disowned. …What will my duties be, now that I have the honor of serving you?"

"You would have been 'disowned', had it not been for your abilities and level of intelligence, '_**Stolas**_'."

-That single word, a name, and not a number he was given as a prisoner, shook Stolas to the core as a load of memories returned to him.

Stolas' mind again raced like a whirlwind, and Stolas struggled to piece together each one in their correct order. However, he still could not place a huge chunk of it no matter how hard he tried.

Stolas was brought back to reality suddenly when he felt Lucifer's mouth on his again. The fear of his lord was back in place, but this time, something was different. He blinked furiously, but knew instinctively not to pull away, nor make any movement unless he was told to do so. He breathed through his nose when he ran out of air, and Lucifer finally let go.

"Prove yourself worthy of my trust in you, Stolas, and I will grant you freedom – little at a time. Starting tomorrow, you will be having a series of tutors, to restore the academic knowledge you hav lost. No more fighting in the ring for you. That punishment is over. Focus now on re-educating yourself."

Lucifer threw the 'juicy bait' in the prince's way, and watched as the disgraced prince get down on his hands and knees, and kissed on the tip of the boot Lucifer was wearing. The victorious look on Lucifer's face right then looked nearly 'manic', and his guards fidgeted uneasily.

"I …thank you, your majesty, for this great opportunity to restore my name and to …repay my family for the dishonor I have caused them." Stolas stated in all seriousness, and saw Lucifer nod.

"This is as far as you need to know for now. You shall learn, to the best of your abilities, everything your tutors will teach you. I expect nothing less than perfection from you, Stolas." Lucifer ordered in his customary stern voice, and watched as Stolas nodded.

"Of course, your majesty."

Stolas bowed again deeply. The kisses Lucifer gave him confused him still, but he found them strange yet rather pleasant, and decided not to pursue the matter for he apparently had a lot to do from tomorrow.

'Asmodeus …Lord Asmodeus, one of the greatest demons is my father…' Stolas thought before closing his eyes to rest. 'Someday …someday in the distant future, I maybe able to ask you …to grant audience with me.'

With this lasting image of Stolas swearing loyalty and fealty to Lucifer, the images finished, and the now-familiar sensation of being forcibly plunged back into reality attacked Ciel's battered mind.

'No,' Ciel kept telling himself. 'No, I cannot have him – my Sebastian – return here. Ever.'

* * *

_The Office of Rague:, Archangel of Justice and Fairness_

_6 Hours Ago – Earth Time_

"My Lord Raguel!" A messenger angel stopped the head of security as he returned to his office.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" Raguel replied in his customary polite manner. The messenger immediately got down on one knee and handed him the urgent message he was given earlier.

"Sir William T. Spears of the Death God Management has personally handed this to me, and he is waiting for you at 'the Gate'."

"What?" Raguel hurriedly took the piece of parchment and scanned its contents.

The dramatic change of the arch angel's expression foretold the weight and the urgency of their situation to the messenger. Raguel nodded to the messenger.

"Thank you. Please get my assistant. We will need to report to lord Uriel immediately, and then to great lord Metatron. This cannot wait. Please send word to Sir Spears that he should stay with us until this matter is settled." Raguel ordered, then watched as the messenger sped out of sight.

Raguel knew – through snippets of updates from Undertaker – that this event just might take place for real. He also knew that this 'Spears' was not someone to be undermined, for this young elite death god meant far more than the man could ever know.

Once Raguel's aid arrived and alerted the other arch angels of the development on earth, Raphael arrived first in a hurry. Raguel dismissed his aid with a set of instructions to be followed with other matters that were yet to be carried out, ordering him not to disturb him until told otherwise.

Then, Raguel and Raphael both went to 'the Gate' in person to admit an open-mouthed William T. Spears. The young man never expected to be admitted inside by the arch angels themselves, and he immediately got down on one knee to properly greet them. Raguel gave the young man his own greeting, and quickly ushered the man inside the gate.

"We are setting up a place for our meeting at a conference room inside lord Uriel's palace." Raguel spoke as the angels sped past the other star-struck angels who all bowed deeply to show their respects to the two arch angels. Spears struggled to keep up, but as soon as they were safely out of sight from the main reception areas, they took Spears' arms and leaped straight for the great angel's palace.

Within minutes, Spears was calm and collected in the manner typical to him, but still, his eyes and the slightly disheveled hair betrayed his calm exterior.

* * *

_The shop of Undertaker_

_An Unnamed street in Downtown_

_London, England_

_Present Time_

Undertaker sighed, remembering only now just how utterly 'unpleasant' this phase of 'waiting' really was.

Death gods generally needed sleep, but it was utterly out of the question so early into a metamorphosis. It was a little close to how a father might feel during an extremely difficult child-birth, but a hundred times worse due to the presence of toxic substances, the putrid smell, and the unearthly sounds of a soul struggling to survive through a mini-version of Ragnarok.

Undertaker's first plan of action consisted of using his secret weapon: Death Book Mark on the demon prince's cinematic record book in order to write in it had failed, simply because the book refused to open. He whispered at it, sang at it, and even tried to talk to it to get a response, but to no avail.

Unless he could turn the record's page to the very first blank page, and actually able to write in it with the pink pen, there was nothing he could do to 'make a correction' in it. There was also nothing he could do, once a book becomes 'inactive' – which would signal that the owner of the book has died.

If what Undertaker had seen of 'Sebastian Michaelis' from Ciel's cinematic record, as well as the ones from his other former masters, was correct, he knew he only had to wait for the final result and he would get his long-time wish. He secretly imagined just what Stolas would end up looking like, if he truly survived. The white wings of a dove, merging with those of midnight-black of a raven's; the transparent nails merging with the pitch-black ones, and the glowing scarlet to simmering pink of his eyes with the largely pale blues of an angel's. Undertaker also had fun imagining the Earl's reaction when he met the true cross-breed version of his former butler.

"Speaking of which," Undertaker mumbled as he mentally calculated the struggling prince's progress versus the approximate flow of time. After weighing the pros and cons of the next move, he decided to test the accuracy of his theory.

There was just one thing Undertaker could do for the suffering butler; to give just another nudge, in what he believed was the right direction. Undertaker did a quick tour of the shop, his hands busy casting protective spells and a special tonic all around and along every wall, to protect the place just to be safe.

Undertaker then took the late Earl's cinematic record first and opened it, holding it by just the hard cover pages and letting loose the rest of the soft pages, watching as the pages began turning themselves over him, creating and sending a little breeze his way. Undertaker then used his free hand to open the voluminous black-covered cinematic record belonging to Stolas, and observed.

This experiment was possible only because both of these books had been in the same room with the butler and one death god who just happened to have the power, knowledge, and skill to bring them together and only because the Earl's soul was bound with - and explicitly and entirely willingly belonged to - the demon's shattered one. Undertaker just hoped that the Earl's sudden disappearance from the Underworld would not be noticed by any of the outsiders.

Undertaker then placed the two books on the floor by the still-changing form of the demon-angel crossbreed, and then let both books 'talk'. He knew he did well once the ends of the cinematic reels from each book began tentatively extend themselves toward the other, the reels touching and seemingly dancing in a mutual search for something.

The Earl's book was very thin, while Stolas's book had more than 3 millenniums' worth of records and thus more than 237 times longer than the child's. As the result, it took a whole lot of streaming on Stolas's records before the Earl's book finally reacted for real, and began to intertwine with Stolas's reels. 'Yes,' The Undertaker thought, 'the two have found each other.'

* * *

(Will continue on to Chapter 10ii)


	14. Chapter 10ii Metamorphosis Contd

*First of all, allow me to thank 'blood and rain' for her continued encouragement and tremendous support. I actually write with her comments in mind quite often.

*Second of all, please allow me to thank everyone who has added this story to their favorite story list, and to everyone who has taken interest in this story enough to subscribe to the Story Alert. I am truly honored.

*Please also be noted that I have made 'Metatron: the Cerestial Scribe' an individual, instead of one of the 'Seraphim Angels'. Sometimes, Seraphim are depicted as an individual having 3 faces, and Metatron is just one of them. Other times, they were described as a group of individual angels. However, for the purpose of this story, Metatron appears mostly as an individual without a set gender, and as the highest of all angels in heaven. Please bear with me.

*I must confess that the time gap in between the previous update and this one has been caused by my need to complete what has become a sequel to this story. It had been close to a year since I began writing the sequel, which I have decided to call: '_The Ambassador_' but I needed to change a few details of the way this story ended to suit the ending of the sequel. (It's a whole lot 'shorter'.)

*Latest Sources of Inspiration:  
1. A song: "10,000 Miles" by Mary Chapen Carpenter (Most strongly remembered from the film:  
"_Fly Away Home_".

2. "Gloria" by Kalafina (included in 'Black Box' – Kuroshitsuji Sound Complete, Disk 3.)

3. Film "13 Days" (about the Kennedy brothers – and the Cuban missile crisis and the blockade of  
Cuba. I loved the quote: "_I intend to wait until Hell freezes over!_")

4. A song: "INORI (Japanese word for 'Prayers')" by Kumiko. (Prayers for peace. This was sung live in New York; at a 'Japan Day' event. The lyrics of which are excerpts of prayers given to the singer by a victim of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima.)

5. A song: "Heart" by Seraphim Suite (Only, in this case, the 'my Lord' applies to more than just the obvious 'Lord'… lol)

6. A song: "Believe in Love" by SUNDAY (Most strongly remembered from the film: "_Down in the Delta_" Soundtrack.)

*So, here is the 2nd installment of the climax chapter. Please enjoy, for this part has taken a whooping 15-month in the making. Also, the segment about Stolas and his mother's segment was – strange enough – taken straight out of the scenes from one of my dreams which I had roughly a year ago. Needless to say, it scared crap out of me for an entire week. (Things like this happen a lot to me while I am working on fictions.)

*Please let me apologize in advance that I could not modify Stolas (Sebastian)'s cinematic records into a first-person. (It used to be a 2nd person mode, but it was written as an epilogue but it got shifted to the sequel and it no longer worked.)

*Please also allow me to remind you that this chapter 'moves around' a lot. I apologize in advance for any confusion or inconvenience that you might experience.

* * *

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 10ii : Metamorphosis

Written by: Second Wind

_Private Prayer Room_

_Top Floor - Palace of Metatron_

_Same Time_

Within the holy confinement of the private prayer room which was situated within the top floor of his palace, Metatron the king of all angels, was deep in concentration. He was analyzing the confusing strings of images and sounds in order to weave together the fabric of future events as accurately as possible.

He was most notorious for his duty as God Almighty's representative, or as a celestial scribe, and was even depicted as one of the six faces of Seraphim. However, how the mortals depicted him was of no concern to him.

This latest metamorphosis was confusing even to him. For instance, there were so many 'foreign' supporters rooting for Stolas to come out victorious, but there were just as many enemies; both within this heavenly realm and on earth. Right now, he was seeing disturbing numbers of 'freshly-fallen' angels being marched out of the pearly gate by a seething Michael and Raguel.

These new fallen angels were all claiming that Heaven – and thus, their 'God the Creator' – had betrayed them by letting a 'filth' taint the holy grounds. Metatron growled. A metamorphosis was always a cause for political unrest. What worried him, though, was the conviction that 'Stolas' alone would not be enough to beat his demonic half.

However, he was also being given enough signs – both in the past and present – that all the pieces were already there. God the creator of all things in all coexisting universes – was awaiting its own 'sign' to make its next move.

Metatron withdrew further into himself and prayed, pleading for more insight from his maker God Almighty to guide them all, and guide them well.

* * *

_Private Palace of Uriel_

_Undisclosed location _

_Christian Kingdom – The Holy Realm_

_15 Minutes Later_

Uriel's aids arrived at the front gate, followed quickly by Uriel's personal security chief and a secretary upon learning who the surprise guests were. A quick exchange of proper greetings and a short explanation from Raguel, they all filed inside the massive white marble palace for emergency meeting.

Spears remained silent, his eyes busy taking in all the finer details of the place, while his mind was too busy trying to organize his thoughts. The central structure of the ceiling of the building was a dome-shaped transparent material which largely resembled crystal, but Spears could not be sure. He could see the sky clearly, and figured there was nothing to hide from God Almighty in this place.

The white marble grand staircase had been decorated intricately, but not elaborately, with gold handrails. Everything was immaculately clean, and looked completely free of dust. Spears wondered if his superiors had ever stepped foot inside of this particular place.

Raguel's request for the emergency meeting with the chief of Arch Angels was swiftly granted once Raguel spoke with the great angel himself, and they all sat down around a round table after exchanging proper greetings.

Spears had no idea how to 'properly' greet such a being, but judging by the rather amused expression on the great angel's face, it was in no way perfect but neither was it offending.

Uriel took the piece of parchment from Raguel – the same one which the great death god entrusted Spears to carry – and read it with an unreadable expression on his face. Spears waited silently. Uriel then nodded.

"So, Mr. Spears… Please tell me – in detail this time – what has been happening. After all, time does not stop just for any ordinary reason, and it certainly is not a common occurrence." Uriel paused there, but before Spears could utter a word, an assistant for Uriel came bustling inside to announce the arrival of Metatron.

Spears swallowed hard, and checked his appearance for what seemed like the hundredth time. He had never been granted the honor of meeting with the highest of all angels before and could not afford to displease the one being who was said to be the God Almighty's representative.

All the angels and Spears got down on one knee, and bowed low to show their respects. Spears could 'feel' the king of all angels before actually 'seeing' him, for the very air of the room felt 'alive' the moment he entered the room. He practically radiated energy – or the 'life force' – which God Almighty supplied to all creatures great and small here in the heavenly realm, and down to the realm of the mortals.

Metatron looked 'excited' for the lack of a better expression as he took his seat. As expected from the 'Celestial Scribe', Metatron got right to the point.

"I believe, Mr. Spears, that your superiors have experienced this phenomenon. This happened about …seven times in the past, four of which were for what is commonly referred to as 'Metamorphosis', including this one. Of these four occasions, I believe the one called 'Undertaker' is the only one to have been physically 'present' at the scene to personally witness them all. Do you know what other occasions were?"

"The …Ragnarok?" Spears answered, not quite certain about his own answer, but his mind had been thwarted in a different direction by the word 'Metamorphosis'. It was just a legend, as Spears understood it. Time stopped itself whenever it occurred and the actual 'rebirth' ceremony always took place here in Heaven. Metatron nodded in satisfaction.

"Yes, Mr. Spears, indeed. Have you heard of this phenomenon called 'Metamorphosis'?"

"Yes. …In passing. I never thought it was something I would encounter in my …lifetime, let alone on my watch."

"Well, you are indeed 'encountering' one, Mr. Spears, and you are very much 'involved' with it. Tell us what you know of it, if you please." Metatron was testing Spears, and both Raguel and Raphael exchanged a look that confirmed their thoughts: Metatron was also assessing just how far this young elite death god would be willing to cooperate.

"At the risk of offending you with my ignorance, I believe it happens only when an offspring of both a demon and an angel is born, and grows up while retaining characteristics of both sides and the body decides to disintegrate itself in order to 're-create' itself. This is only possible through a very painful and arduous transformation process. Once the process is complete, however, it is most likely impossible for the transformed being to revert back to its original self."

"You are quite well-versed with the process, Mr. Spears. Then, I believe there is no need to tell you why it is occurring now, and who caused it." Metatron said, clearly testing the young death god out of his comfort zone. Spears nodded without missing a beat.

"I believe that it is Prince Stolas who is causing this phenomenon, and if his body decides to take the side of his demon biology, then he will be reborn as a … as one of the most powerful demon lords of all time. If he is reborn as an angel, however, a lot of discussions will need to take place for he will no longer be able to reside in the Underworld due to biological reasons."

"Did you just come to this conclusion or did you know it all along?" Uriel asked, mesmerized. Spears shook his head.

"No, Lord Uriel. I only put it all together now. My superiors were so secretive about the entire thing, but I had my suspicions."

"Metamorphosis, in any case, is an extremely delicate matter often resulting in a political mess and a diplomatic nightmare. Even after successful metamorphosis, we had one that became one of the 'fallen' later on. Another one never woke up, and the other died of an illness."

"Prince Stolas is a strong one, my lords. He may just turn out well." Spears voiced the thought before he could censor it. To this, Raphael raised his hand to get everyone's attention.

"I have one cause for concern regarding that subject. Although I cannot be sure until I get a chance to examine him myself. …When he liberated Ms. Simmons' soul to us at the execution site, one of my assistants reported that Prince Stolas' heart nearly gave out. Not even Undertaker could do much to help him at the site. Is that correct?" Raphael asked Spears for confirmation, and the young death god confirmed it with a nod.

"Are you saying that he has a heart problem?" Spears asked, not having noticed it.

"It is one of my theories, yes. It is common for cross-breed offspring to suffer from some form of genetic disease or some form of birth defects." Raphael stated while studying the death god's stunned expression and a minute trace of something reflecting 'genuine concern'.

Raphael resisted the urge to smile. He decided Spears would answer him honestly, without prejudice. "Does he pass out a lot? Avoids serious combat?" He began the first questions. Spears again shook his head.

"No, he is quite good in battles." Spears answered but in the back of his mind, a dark crowd of doubt began to form.

"I will rephrase the question. Does he prefer 'speed' and 'flexibility' in battle over brute force and favors peaceful negotiations and reasoning _before _resorting to violence?" Raphael asked, deep in thought.

"That… I believe, is correct." Spears answered, remembering his battle with Grell, and what happened afterwards.

"He keeps himself slim and lightweight, correct?"

"Yes, he does. But, he is a bird."

"We all are, and look at Lord Michael." Raphael commented.

"I …have nothing to say to that, Lord Raphael." Spears answered honestly, fighting with the urge to snicker.

"Prince Stolas also prefers to end battles quickly, does he not?" Raphael added.

"From what I have seen, the answer is yes."

"I have no doubt that Prince Stolas is a formidable opponent in battle, and that is why he has managed to stay alive even under the most hellish condition. I am just not sure if he can pull himself through this one." Raphael clarified his suspicion for everyone.

"It is his only chance to live. Is that not true, my lords?" Spears asked, knowing the answer. He wasn't disappointed.

"Yes. Yes, it definitely is." Uriel confirmed for everyone. He then rubbed his chin thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons of voicing his thought. He exchanged a quick look with Metatron, and the great angel granted permission with a nod. "…Also, Celestial Scribe Metatron believes that Prince Stolas could be holding one of the most significant roles in the future, when the borders of all co-existing worlds collide …roughly 1 millennium from now."

"I beg your pardon?" Spears felt his eyes practically bulge out of their sockets in shock. The sudden increase of his heartbeat felt like conundrums echoing in synch with his racing mind. However, Uriel did not elaborate this part, to Spears' disappointment.

"As I have already told you, Mr. Spears, once this process starts, you cannot reenter the realm of the living until it completes." Uriel continued, still watching Spears' every reaction closely. He continued when Spears remained silent. "Which means, that you cannot re-enter Undertaker's shop, either. Nor your own realm, for the spell which your superior used to send you up here also sealed that remaining portal. It was always meant to be a one-way deal."

"…I have expected this, but I believed that there could be… exceptions or a way to get around the rules for us death gods." Spears admitted his displeasure, and Uriel nodded.

"It would be best, if you stayed here the whole time. It is way too dangerous for you or any one of us to move around, crossing realms, during a metamorphosis. That is why God Almighty placed the blockade." Raguel added, nodding when Raphael gave him a quick look to let him speak.

"You were already attacked by a group of demon bounty hunters and they were most displeased to discover that we were guarding Undertaker's shop and, through that establishment, guarding Prince Stolas. They knew your scent, and although it was most fortunate that you have escaped with your life, let alone without much lasting damage, we cannot guarantee your safety beyond our front gates." Raphael supplied the piece of fact to Spears, who looked satisfied with the missing detail.

"Yes, Lord Raphael." Spears bowed in his seat, then shifted to right his posture.

"We can relay your messages to your superiors, either via messenger birds or via emissaries if necessary, but only after the blockade is removed. You will be given your own room to stay, for we have no idea how long this will take." Raguel elaborated, to which Spears thanked.

"Lord Uriel, may I ask you a question?" Spears spoke after a moment's silence. Uriel motioned for him to continue and he nodded gratefully. "Will Prince Stolas be exiled, confined, or imprisoned, even after the process succeeds and he comes out as an angel?" Spears could not say just why he was asking this particular question, but he felt he needed to know. Raguel exchanged a quick glance with Uriel and Metatron, before he was allowed to answer. Spears swallowed hard.

"We will certainly keep him …sequestered, for the lack of a better word solely for security reasons. However, once this metamorphosis completes and if he is indeed reborn as an angel, nothing that he has ever done in his life will be relevant, because a successful metamorphosis means Prince Stolas has chosen his own fate.

"If he is reborn as an angel, it means that he has chosen to place his fate in God's hands. Then, if he actually survives through the first bath in holy water, it means that God Almighty has reviewed him, analyzed him, and granted him a second chance to redeem himself. Mr. Spears, he will certainly retain all his memories from his former life, but he will be expected to live as an angel and to act as such. Just as every other angel of this kingdom is expected to live."

"…A clean slate, then." Spears muttered to himself, satisfied with the answer. Raguel nodded.

"Either way, the revelation ceremony will take place right here in heaven, Mr. Spears, and I expect you to be present." Raguel stated, nodding for Uriel to continue when the great angel raised a hand to let him speak.

"Which means, Mr. Spears, Prince Stolas will be picked up, along with Undertaker, shortly after the transformation phase is complete and the blockade in between this realm, your realm are removed. The blockade on all the secret portal sites, are going to be removed as soon as the royal guards have recognized them to be safe. All the 'regular' portals in between the Underworld, the world of the mortal creatures, and the death gods, will not be opened to 'the general public' until after the revelation ceremony is completed."

Spears thanked the Arch Angels with another deep bow.

Metatron nodded his acknowledgement, then 'leaped' out of the room with a soft 'whoosh'.

"Adrian, please escort Sir Spears to a guest quarter, please." Raphael called out to one of the messenger angels on stand-by, and the young angel nodded and motioned for Spears to follow. Spears thanked him and sighed, thinking about what to write in his report to his superiors and his already-overworked assistant.

"Do you believe that man can be trusted?" Raguel asked Uriel once they exited the meeting room. Uirel seemed thoughtful for a long moment before replying with an affirmative nod.

"Yes, I do. Celestial Scribe Metatron believes that Spears will surpass his superiors in the years and centuries to come."

"Are you saying that he …could also hold a key in the …what is being feared to be another start of 'Ragnarok' or 'the rapture' when the event finally occurs?" Raguel genuinely did not like death gods much, but Spears had a different air – an aura about him that endeared the young man to him.

"Absolutely, yes." Uriel nodded again in conviction. Then, after a moment he dropped his gaze with a deep thought. Raguel simply waited, knowing that whatever his lord had in mind was a serious matter. "There is also something else I need to do."

"Is it something concerning a legal matter?" Raguel pressed gently, to which Uriel nodded.

"Yes and no. I need to contact Camael for me. I have not seen Camael in ages, but I figure he might still be here. If not, he must be stuck in the mortal realm due to the blockade."

Raguel closed his eyes for a moment in deep thoughts. He himself was in charge of legal affairs of this holy realm. Uriel was the foreseer and the chief of all arch angels who was in charge of delivering 'the final judgment' to the mortals.

Camael was the gifted healer for the broken-hearted and mended all the emotionally-wounded, unlike Raphael who was the ultimate healer of all 'physical' wounds. However, Camael was most cherished for his ability to bestow the mortals an ability to recognize their soul mates, as well as 'pure love'. Camael was also hailed as the angel of 'forgiveness'.

"My lord, are you calling him in regard to… that mortal soul we have recently admitted? The mother of…"

"The son of Prince Stolas. That issue had been dealt with adequately. However, I need Camael for Ciel Phantomhive, this time." Uriel finished his thought, looking deeply into Raguel's eyes. Raguel nodded in understanding.

"Ah."

"I will also be speaking with Raphael and Michael in regard to a similar matter, but that is not something you need to be concerned about. Just know that those two will also have a part in it."

"Very well, my lord." Raguel nodded with satisfaction. This was what Raguel loved about Uriel. Being a gifted foreseer, the man knew exactly how to alleviate many a nasty misunderstanding.

When Raguel parted to return to his office, Uriel turned to see Raphael silently following them from a short distance away, also in deep thoughts. Uriel called Raphael's attention.

"You have been rather quiet. What is on your mind, my friend?" Uriel asked, knowing that a silent Raphael is never a good sign. However, in this case, the angel of healing smiled quietly.

"I have never met such a …bright, and … for the lack of a better word 'peculiar' death god." With that, he snickered good-naturedly and Uriel soon found himself joining the man in laughter.

"Yes. Yes, he is indeed 'peculiar'."

"Do you think he realizes it himself?" Raphael chuckled, and saw Uriel tilt his head in contemplation. However, both their eyes were still laughing.

"Why does he try so very hard 'not' to show his real self? I am intrigued. It is quite obvious that he does not want to let others know what he is really like on the inside, but… He might be doing more harm than good, if he does not act honestly to himself."

"His demeanor and outward image has its advantage. However, maybe we ought to teach him – while he is with us – that it is good to 'be himself' outside of work. Then, maybe he will realize exactly what he is missing – and denying."

"He is a great fish out of water. Maybe we can work on him enough to… compel him to take his armor off, and enjoy being himself. By doing so, we will have created the greatest outside ally for Prince Stolas." Raphael added. They parted for their respective offices.

'Yes, Prince Stolas, you are worth it.' Raphael thought to himself before entering his own office, his mind racing with a long list of tasks to be completed.

* * *

_Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street,_

_East-End, London, England_

_2 Hours Later – Earth Time_

The shop owner breathed a sigh of utter relief. The barrels of holy water he had readied for just such an occasion saved the old death god from going through the trouble of making it from scratch, and from the trouble of redoing the entire floor of the shop due to the damage caused by 'the filth'.

Even now, the 'essence of evil' which was still seeping out of the price's transforming body unleashed a sizzling sound accompanied with the sound of something shrieking as it died upon contact with the floor mop dipped in holy water.

Undertaker once again mopped the floorboard with the holy water as yet another current of black tar-like fluid seeped out with its distinct fetid odor, and wiped it off again. From experience, he knew that this continued on until the prince's body was done fighting with itself, and turned into a cocoon.

The long streams of the cinematic record books from Stolas' black book had not stopped long after the Earl's short ones were swallowed up in the sea of two books' worth of reels. After all, they had more than 2 millenniums to cover versus the Earl's mere 13 years' worth.

Of the past 3 metamorphosis which Undertaker personally observed, this was the first one for which the cinematic records were used so actively. He never once had the chance to even experiment what would happen when more than just the subject's record was present, and was used actively, and never in between creatures of different realms.

Undertaker knew before he began the experiment that Ciel was the only one who could lead Stolas through the battle – alive. Furthermore, it was an added plus that 'Sebastian' had already consumed Ciel's soul partially upon completing their contract – and that he had chosen to consume the part of Ciel that harbored all the dark thoughts and hatred – and leaving, though by accident, truly 'the best' part of the boy's soul.

It was also a fortunate accident that Stolas chose to 'restore' that best part, to make it as healthy as a soul could be while still residing in the Underworld. Ciel's soul already being a part of Stolas – literally – had helped strengthening the already-strong bond in between their two souls, as well as to further heighten their souls' 'compatibility'.

Once all the facts had been straightened out, Undertaker was struck anew by just how extraordinary everything seemed – and looked as though God Almighty itself was pulling some strings, to make this happen.

Undertaker once again felt pressured by the weight of the world – this part of the vast, vast world in which all realms collided – placed on his and the two of his friends' shoulders.

"Any minute now…" Undertaker muttered to himself, waiting for the sign to take the next step.

* * *

_Interrogation Room_

_Castle of Lucifer_

_Christian Kingdom - Underworld Society_

_Same Time_

Real Time; 3rd-person POV

Ciel had no idea just what was happening to 'other' human souls Stolas kept, but judging by the foot traffic in and out of his own room, accompanied with faint traces of inhuman screams and the reports which Lucifer's aids supplied their king with, he figured this 'David the explorer' was not faring any better than he himself was. After all, the man had been in Stolas' possession far longer than he himself had been, and seen just as much of the prince's territories as any of the prince's close guards.

Ciel could not even allow himself to think about what was happening to the 'mate', but he supposed that being confined within that very horrible cell in which 'her lord' had been confined in earlier, and be 'given' to the winners of each 'battle' was a fate just as horrible as the one Stolas himself had suffered. Of course, Ciel had suffered much similar fate as a 10 year-old child slave, but at least his tormentors had all been 'human'.

Lucifer returned to his customary throne in the interrogation room after being called away by one of the elder councils, and growled before gulping down the remaining blood wine. Lilith promptly refilled his goblet as well as her own, looking increasingly unhappy compared to when she last left the room.

"I do not care what the elder councils say! I will NEVER allow Stolas to be 'welcomed' in here, to be reinstated. _Reinstated!_" Lucifer barked the last word.

"Darling, you don't know that he will ever survive through it. Even if he does, you are the king of this realm. No one will dare oppose you, if you just went on with the execution order." Lilith reasoned uncharacteristically, and Ciel felt a deep prick of anxiety, because he did not want either of the royal couple to regain a rational mind.

"I do_ not _even want to _think_ about what happens if that wretch turns_ the other way_!" Lucifer knocked away the goblet in frustration, and turned his burning gaze towards Ciel. The power of genuine hatred that burned within those eyes gained their depth once Ciel grinned despite the pain it caused his cracked jaw.

Ciel did not know what to say, or what they were actually talking about, but knew just what Lucifer 'wanted' from Ciel as a reaction. Ciel was also determined not to give Lucifer the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

Ciel schooled his expression back to neutral, and searched hard within his own memories of 'Sebastian'. He settled on the memory of Sebastian, crouched behind Ciel with his arms spread widely, to catch the flying bullets that had been fired at Ciel from Queen Victoria's royal guards.

"You will not end here." Sebastian had told him. Ciel grinned at the memory now. 'No, _**Sebastian**__. _It is _**you**_ who will not end here.'

Ciel mentally whipped himself to think; to maximize what advantage he was afforded in order to keep Lucifer from regaining a rational mind. The king of fallen angels was once again heading out of the room with Lilith in tow, and in order to achieve Ciel's goal, he could not let either of them leave the room to cool off their heads again.

"You are wasting your time and effort. …I have something …you will _never _have." Ciel began, his pained words stopping Lilith in her tracks. He continued while he still could. "You wanted him so very badly, but you never truly had him." Ciel spoke directly in Lilith's face. "He obeyed you because he had to. He despised you for the _filthy_ _whore_ that you are."

Lilith's eyes flashed with lethal intent. Ciel continued, this time addressing Lucifer directly.

"Out of all creatures of Hell, he despised you most of all. …You bound him with his oath, just as I have bound him – at first – with the Faustian contract. But, I know now that what truly 'bound' us together was something that he never, ever, gave you because it was something '_sacred_', and you were never worth it. "

Ciel of course did not have to utter another word for the full meaning of his words to sink into Lucifer's mind. Lucifer's eyes flashed blood red, burning so brightly with rage, that Ciel uttered a quick prayer in his head as he drove the last nail in his own coffin.

"Just in case he never gets to say his last words…" Ciel said, then took a quick breath – while gathering up whatever mucus and blood mixed with saliva his mouth could offer – and spat in Lucifer's face with enough force to soil the demon lord's entire face.

A thunderous cry of rage was the last thing Ciel Phantomhive heard before everything suddenly turned pitch-black, and Lucifer's great sword buried itself deep into the marble floor.

* * *

_The shop of Undertaker_

_An Unnamed street _

_Downtown, London, England_

_Same Time_

In that precise moment, the whole room was surrounded by a bright pale glow which pulsated and echoed with its force, vibrating the walls and rattling the windows.

Undertaker grinned widely. He grinned even wider once he heard a familiar voice curse loudly.

"OH! WHAT THE…?"

Formerly-known-as Earl of Phantomhive, Ciel Phantomhive, sat on the floor of his shop once again, rubbing his butt where he had fallen. That was when Undertaker noticed the state the boy was in.

"Earl? Where are your clothes? …And what is up with all these scars and bruises?"

"WHAT? …U-UNDERTAKER! What the hell is…?"

"Please watch your language, earl. This is now a very sacred ground, and cussing is strictly forbidden. You cannot be casting and throwing negative energy in this place. You will push him away."

"Tsk." Ciel bit back the rest of his retort once he registered the extremely serious expression on Undertaker's face.

"So, what happened to you?" The undertaker asked with his eyebrows raised in honest concern.

"Echidna broke into the palace and took me hostage, then took me to Lucifer's. I made him mad, because I literally spat in his face. …You can guess the rest." Ciel grumbled. The Undertaker grimaced.

"Well, for what it's worth… welcome, Ciel Phantomhive."

Ciel tried to stand, then finally took notice of what he just slipped on, once his hands came away very slick and wet. …Not to mention smelly. It took a little longer for the child's mind to finally see everything – especially the creature making the most disgusting and horrifying noises beside him – and screamed. Ciel immediately stumbled back, and put more distance in between himself and the moving, changing lump of meat coated liberally in all forms of liquid and fluid that Ciel had no wish to investigate. His eyes were opened wide as saucers with shock.

"What… What the he.. I meant, what in the world is this… this… THING?" Ciel pointed at 'the mass'. The Undertaker winced, hoping Stolas did not hear that bit.

"Earl Phantomhive, I suggest you stay close to 'that thing' as you so eloquently referred to, as possible. Do you not feel it? Do not let your eyes play tricks on your mind. Allow yourself to feel, and to listen. You will have the answer soon enough."

Undertaker wiped Ciel's body clean with the holy water, immensely relieved to see that the hissing caused by the water against the filth on the boy's skin left no damage to the boy. Ciel calmed down when he realized he was in no danger. That was when he finally registered the presence of the cinematic records, and the books that held them.

"This thin one is …mine?" Ciel mumbled questioningly.

"Yes, it is." The undertaker played no riddles this time. This very fact caught Ciel's attention more than anything.

"So, what's this other one? …This one is really thick. Does this belong to either of my parents?"

"No."

"Who would live so long that the book grows so thick?" Ciel honestly wondered aloud.

"Mmm… I think you already know the answer to that question." The Undertaker let Ciel work it out for himself.

"Yeah. That book belongs to a non-human." Ciel got the first part correct.

"Very good. I see you learn fast."

"Courtesy of having a fast-working brain." Ciel shot back.

"Speaking of which…" Undertaker pointed with his long-nailed finger to a spot behind the Earl. Ciel looked, and found one of the reels from the big book caressing his open palm. Ciel looked back at Undertaker, his expression unsure.

"What do I do?"

"Whatever it is you want to. Just remember that what you are being witness to is a sacred, significant event. It is a truly high honor, especially considering to whom that book belongs to." The Undertaker said, watching Ciel swallow hard, his eyes now wide with amazement.

"A non-human."

"Yes."

"Who is fond of me?" Ciel never took his eyes off of the cinematic reels, and 'That Thing' making horrid noises and even worse smells.

"Very much."

"And one whose soul and life is connected with mine?"

"I think it is time that you let yourself experience it."

Ciel gulped again, hoping he is not wrong about this, and at the same time terrified of being right, because he could not comprehend just what it meant if he was indeed right. Ciel took a deep breath, contemplating, but in the end, made his decision on an impulse. His fingers let themselves be wrapped by an end of a reel, and did not offer resistance once the reels began climbing up his arms to reach his torso.

"Well, von voyage, Earl Phantomhive." Undertaker said as the small frame of the child was engulfed in the mass of reels from Stolas' book.

It seemed Undertaker was in yet another very long wait, and he just hoped that Stolas' body and soul can withstand the strain that was being placed upon them, because this process undoubtedly will be incomparably worse than any torture he had ever endured.

* * *

_Unspecified Location_

_Within Ciel's Sub-conscious_

Ciel Phantomhive was pretty much ready for everything Hell had to offer – if it meant he would be with Sebastian. Sebastian had promised him numerous times that he would follow Ciel to the ends of Hell. What Ciel was not in any way prepared for – especially not after Lucifer and Lilith showed Ciel snippets from the raven prince's life, was to be shown what it would mean to '_be_' him. Ciel had to thank the fact that it was a 'digest' version.

The 'Sebastian' that he never knew – all his secrets, hopes, fantasies and even dreams – since the moment of his birth – were now laid bare in the open just for him.

A glowing, white-winged beauty who had been tricked by Asmodeus to fall out of the heavenly realm and down to the dark world of Hell; a hostage and an insurance to the great demon whose real prey was another fallen angel whose crime was to kill an innocent demon. The trial had been held in Lucifer's own palace; where the greatest king of hell had an auditorium which he frequently used for his own sick entertainment as well as to pursue his passion – music.

Stolas' voice, as he narrated his own life, sounded just as it always sounded – a soothing baritone. But, being shown, guided through, and talked through the entire life of Stolas himself was unnerving, especially when the subject maters became sensitive. This was certainly something that no mere, weak-minded human should be witnessing, because experiencing this man's life through his own eyes was far too much to handle for anyone.

_A demon child, born between a powerful, noble demon lord and the angel whose worth as an angel, as well as a hostage had been lost the moment she was impregnated by the great demon lord. Many nights, Stolas heard his mother crying, sobbing and wishing her child had never been conceived, that her lord and 'father' would forgive her for her 'weakness' and that she had been raped all the while Stolas grew inside her belly. _

_Stolas remembered how his heart had been broken over and over again every time his mother wished him gone – that, her entire life was in shambles because of these demons and the dank, smoke-filled, foul-smelling pits of hell. So, Stolas was already equipped with the pent-up energy called 'hate', 'contempt', 'wrath', 'jealousy', and the distinct feeling of having been 'betrayed', all before he ever took his first breath. And it fueled his demonic side while his angelic side received a constant beating._

_Stolas' mother certainly had no love for her child. …At least, until the day Stolas was born. _

_Suddenly, all of Hell wanted to have a look at this 'noble' child – an heir to the throne, and a beauty unmatched by any other. Even his father and Lucifer himself came to see the newborn prince, and rejoiced. – While other half of hell secretly loathed his existence._

_Although Stolas was a young and energetic child, he had also been a powerful child – and powerful in a decidedly demonic manner. Demons loved power, violence, blood-shed and mind games. Stolas, while he was still barely old enough to stand and walk around the palace with only a single demon to guard him, would try his hand at combat against lost human souls and other lost ones as sparring mates. He found them surprisingly easy to defeat, even when they were thrice as big as he was – because he was so extremely adept at inducing fear in his 'victims' that their bodies froze, and their minds put themselves on 'pause'._

_On some days, his father came to check on Stolas' progress, seeing such promise and ruthlessness all at once. He knew he had to be careful with this particular child. Stolas – or 'the baby prince', as other demons pegged him, surely did not act like one. The guards in the holding cell for humans who were waiting their turn to be sent to the deeper pits of hell were all graced with Stolas' little teasing sessions, which practically meant that Stolas was there to enjoy torturing the prisoners to whatever extent he saw fit. All the guards had to do was to place Stolas inside the holding cell, and tell him what each prisoner had done to deserve their time in hell. Strangely, Stolas did require that, always._

_However, once Stolas had the information filed in his memory, he would either start tearing into the flesh of the condemned with his bare hands, and then go about scattering the torn pieces around, showering himself with their blood, then laugh himself silly. Their screams were music to his ears; their pleading for mercy and ending of pain were like liquid fuel that fueled his cruelty even more. _

_Other times, Stolas borrowed the chemistry lab where they were storing all sorts of potions, poisons, and poisonous plants, and start cooking up poisons the way a chef would start cooking. He would jot down the ones he would like to modify or recreate in the future, and tested them out on the prisoners, as well. Whenever he needed 'live' specimens to work with, he went into the areas of the dungeons where either his father or Lord Lucifer kept demon prisoners who have betrayed his father. _

_Stolas most enjoyed watching these demon prisoners suffer, lose their minds, try to end their pain by offering information and sometimes, their bodies for pleasure. Now, Stolas had no desire to search a mate at such a young age, as at first he declined. But, as soon as he felt the changes inside him, he began to experiment. He ended up giving his virginity to a succubus, whose beauty he could not resist. They mated off and on for a while, and the roughness with which they mated became legendary among young demons._

_Asmodeus saw in Stolas a bit of himself then, and tried to calm his wild son down. This was the reason which Stolas came to live amongst a race of Valkyrie whose stunning beauty was nothing but a façade. Stolas disliked their dresses, made of everything they killed in battle. In fact, had it not been for their agreement with Asmodeus and Stolas' own noble status, he would have been torn apart a long time ago. However, those five human years (which were not long for the demons) have benefitted his battle skill knowledge more than any other training, and kept his mind and body occupied with battles and combat skills to think about 'pleasures of the flesh'. _

_What surprised Asmodeus was that Stolas had brought one of his many captives with him to Asmodeus' castle, where Stolas still resided. Stolas immediately 'enslaved' the Valkyrie half-breed and registered her as such, but the truth of the matter was that Stolas was acting as though he was the girl's guardian or a sparring mate, and not as a future mate. Stolas had also been gone a lot, which left the 'slave' with little to do but to 'keep the house in order'. _

_Unlike before, the slightly grown-up version of Stolas became a reasonable, lot more settled-down, and above all, beautiful. That was truly a gift from Stolas' mother, whose beauty captivated all of Hell for millennium after millennium. _

As the 'cinema' went on, Ciel realized something important. Just as it had been with his aunt Angelina's case, this cinematic record also did not have any means for its viewers to control its progression.

Ciel hated not being in control of any given situation, and this was another one. He could not replay something that he would have liked to see, nor could he skip something he did not want to see in the first place. He figured only death gods or the Almighty had that privilege.

The cinematic reels came to Ciel on their own volition. They offered, and he took it. If he was to see something he would not like to see, the fault was his. Ciel hated not having Stolas himself next to him in this realm as well, because this was most likely going to be a very difficult, and very 'long' show. Ciel sighed and squared his shoulders.

* * *

_Unspecified Location_

_Within Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time_

Although Stolas was blessedly unaware of what his physical self was going through at the moment, he was certainly not enjoying what is fast turning into a horror show of his own life.

It began suddenly and very shortly after he became conscious of his current surroundings.

Nothing but pale blue was visible to him here. This place reminded Stolas of 'the Limbo', but it felt 'finite'. The atmosphere afforded no visibility due to the very air of the place was working like a very thick fog. However, the biggest difference between this particular place and the Limbo was that this place was a whole lot lighter than that vast gray space.

Stolas certainly had no previous knowledge of this place or realm, and it certainly seemed like no one was around for miles and miles. He was wracking his brains trying to determine just where this was, until he was greeted by his own voice.

The initial shock was short-lived, however, as images began accompanying his own voice, narrating each events – memories – as it passed by him. Stolas recognized this as 'cinematic record', but it irked him to find himself 'watching' one made for his own. What truly terrified him was the sheer amount of memories he had lost, including those of his own mother – his real mother. Stolas stared as the images of his mother, who looked so like himself, came and went.

As each 'memorable' detail of his life was revealed, however, Stolas got a nagging feeling that he would not be able to stop himself from learning just 'why' he had lost these memories in the first place.

However, what bothered him the most was the feeling that this replaying of his old memories did not start automatically, but that it began because someone else had control over it. Which meant that the 'audience' for this horror show was not just Stolas himself, but also whoever else that managed to get access to it. He began to have an idea of the offender once he got used to listening to 'himself' talk about 'himself'.

Stolas' best theory was that this was in relation to what Undertaker had been doing as another part of analyzing and assessing Stolas' life and soul, prior to handing him over to the emissaries. However, Stolas still couldn't wrap his mind around 'the reason' for which this was being done to him at this particular moment. Undertaker could have waited, if necessary, after Stolas was executed and arrived to him as 'a soul in need of the final judgment'.

Stolas tried to break himself free of the flow of images, but he literally had nothing to hold on to. Whatever movement he made was futile. He could not even ask for a break to digest the memories he was being fed. All was passing either too fast or too slow for his liking. '_**Be careful what you wish for.**_' Stolas thought. '_**Because, you just might get it.**_'

So, Stolas did what he has been doing for the better part of the past 2 years. He reminded himself of Ciel Phantomhive, and imagined having the boy with him, standing proudly in front of him. Although he hated himself for the weakness, Stolas still felt relieved to think of Ciel being with him as the rest of the memories kept playing themselves in front of him.

* * *

_Unspecified Location_

_Within Ciel's Consciousness_

_Same Time_

Ciel struggled to keep his mind 'open' to the memories he was witnessing. He could not be sure just how much he would be able to recall after the memories actually ended, but he had to try. This was his 'Sebastian', the one whom Ciel himself risked everything in order to save, and the one who, perhaps, loved Ciel just as much as - or more than his own parents ever did.

If anything, Ciel thought, I should be the one who will understand 'Sebastian' better than absolutely anyone, and still accept him, as both 'Sebastian' and as 'Prince Stolas'.

With that in mind, Ciel resolutely kept his eyes on the images.

_Soon after Stolas returned from the Valkyries', Stolas' abilities were put to test when his father Asmodeus had been summoned. At the location of the summoning, his father claimed, scores of other equally powerful demon lords were being gathered. Something was happening, and their king Lucifer had not been available for consult. Asmodeus felt he could not wait, and since other demons were at the site, this could prove as an ideal first experience with the mortal world for Stolas. Stolas had been roughly thirty years old at the time, but he looked nothing like a thirty-year old human, considering that demons lived for eternity and their bodies grew much slower than those of humans. Nevertheless, Stolas agreed with his father, and the rest was history._

_Only recollections of the human world Stolas had ever known were the extremely vague memories of endless harsh sunlight, perched soil with little life to be seen, the pains from many restraints placed on him (most of which could not be seen), the equally endless back-breaking labor involving blocks of stones (for everyone), mountains of jewels (for him), and carving tools (for him) at the construction site, and finally the endless darkness inside the brass pot in which all demons Solomon controlled had been confined in after successfully building the Holy Temple. _

_He wished he could remember in detail about the great escape, where the Babylonians dug out the copper vessel from the bottom of the ocean, in which the pots of sealed demons had been stored. Stolas had never really liked sea water, and never had the opportunity nor the desire to dive to the bottom of any ocean. _

_Soon after Stolas' return to the Underworld to recover from their ordeal, Asmodeus called on him, and told him to go to the humans' world to try and get a 'contract'. Stolas knew this was coming, and although he hated humans more than ever, he actually liked his own 'human' form, and now felt accepted. He also remembered many humans in Israel looking his way from their vantage point and heard them whispering about his beauty. Also, he knew that the main source of food for demons was human souls. He needed to improve his 'hunting' skills in order to act in a manner fit for an heir to the throne, even though he was not above enjoying the 'buffet-style' feeding of souls just yet. _

_On the eve of his second departure, however, the event happened that would change everything he ever knew of the world he lived in. He was reviewing the patterns of the summoning circle in case he luckily happened upon them. Most likely, though, he would have to go up himself. He hated it, but he knew he would need his wings 'out' in order to exert enough powers to take flight. _

_Stolas concentrated and felt the wings be released with the swishing sounds, and catch the subtle movements in the air. The sounds of each of his wings – and the feathers – expanding in the air glowed into his ears. He concentrated harder, his eyebrows furrowing, and eyes tightly shut, his mind scanning for any 'summoning ceremony' which were being performed to summon a demon. If he could find one, the flight would require only half the energy he would need to surface by himself._

_When Stolas' concentration was at its peak, however, something literally 'slammed' into his psyche. The force of it was powerful enough, that it had knocked Stolas down to the ground. _

_But before the shock of the fall was even registered, a horrible scream filled his head, the force of vibration and volume deafening his ears and an unbearable headache assaulted him. It was bad enough that he ended up crumbling down upon the marble floor, screaming at the top of his lungs and rolled around in a vain effort to try and get away from the pain. _

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time_

If Stolas had the means to do so, he would have ran screaming, to look for any hole from which he could crawl out of this nightmare. However, without body to do so with, and seeing nothing around him but what has become more like pale blue sludge, Stolas had no means of escape.

Each attack – both physical and verbal – felt extremely real to Stolas, and they caught him completely off-guard, for he could not prepare himself due to his lack of memory. With each respite, which merely meant that each time memories became something mundane and bearable, Stolas regained enough strength to feel 'anger' toward whomever was in charge of the show, but gradually the feeling of powerlessness overtook him.

The phantom pains he had completely forgotten returned with full force, making his nonexistent back ache with agony, and the equally long-forgotten feeling of having a set of raven wings on his back, returned.

Warning bells rang in his mind with deafening frenzy, and Stolas realized this was all his mind could do in order to prepare him for what was to come. Fear unlike any other he had ever felt gripped his heart, and for the first time, he consciously feared for his own sanity. Ah, but the merciless tormentor was not done.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Ciel's Consciousness_

_Same Time_

Ciel hated to find himself an outside audience of this cinema of Stolas' life, because he was watching it unfold before him without the means to come to the man's aid. What terrified him the most was his knowledge that the worst of it was still a long way to come, and the fact that Stolas himself had no knowledge about any of it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Stolas couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and his heart-rate had gone off the charts as it tried to meet the demands of his body. His wings were damaged from the impact of his body falling down on them at an odd angle, and the pain was unbelievable. He did not register the commotion when someone entered the private study room where Stolas lay screaming, and didn't register whose hand it was that took him by hand, or the arms that held him firmly but gently, until the familiar but long absent voice of his mother filled his ears._

_She cast a spell that restored his hearing, then the headache disappeared so that Stolas could think again. _

"_I do not expect you to ever forgive me for being a terrible mother to you all your life. Just, please try and come with me. We need to leave, and we need to go this instant. There will not be another chance of leaving." The urgency in her voice was enough to give Stolas his bearings and he was able to regain control of his emotions._

"_Mother, I do not know what this is about, or what brought this on." Stolas muttered as the angel pulled at him._

"_I really do not have time to explain, and besides, I am not really here."_

"_What?" Stolas finally realized then that his mother's body looked a bit faded. This was her subconscious self that had been given a corporeal body. "Where are you, then?" Stolas asked, but she refused to answer. "Where is father? Should he not know about this? …I mean, about your leaving?"_

"_He knows." She replied curtly. This was the only answer Stolas could get before they rounded the last corner and into the circle of portal where Stolas as planning on actually leaving from. Seeing the preparation for flight was already made, she hurried them both into it and took out her massive dove's wings. _

_Their joined hands gave off sparks of energy into the air. Stolas was confused, not knowing whether or not this as the right thing to do, and at the same time, afraid of 'not' going. Something was telling Stolas that his life was in danger, and that his angelic mother was not insane. She took his chin in her hand to force him to face her straight. In her eyes, Stolas saw desperation, and fear._

"_Son, I ask you, just this once, to trust me. We cannot stay here. Something has happened, and I am a captive to your father's royal guards."_

"_Mother, you have always been one." Stolas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion._

"_I do not mean my initial status. I am actually under arrest for treason."_

_Stolas stared at his mother in shock. _

Ciel fought to regain his breath, as well as a rational mind.

Whatever expectations he ever had about his former butler-turned-owner was shattered in the face of the brutal truth. No amount of reasoning, knowledge or the courage he was equipped with to face this phase of his life never was enough. Ciel had no idea how to get out of it.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Stolas' Subconcious_

_Same Time_

For the better part of the past several hours, all that he had done was try to shut his eyes, ears and mind out of the flooding of what was surely the most painful part of his own life. After failing to do all three, he came up with the utterly desperate and undignified method of screaming in order to prevent himself from listening to it. This worked until he realized these images were being sent directly into his mind, bypassing every defense he had left.

Overcome by the weight of hopelessness and powerlessness, Stolas finally admitted defeat and resigned to the possible fate of losing his sanity. However, 'fate' had an entirely different idea.

'_**BANG!'**_

…The impact literally felt as if he had hit a stone wall at top speed. He was momentarily thrown off, and he felt his very soul feel the shock, and numbed all his senses.

…Then Stolas found himself in an open space. His surroundings were still the same shade of pale blue but no longer oppressive, and whatever had been holding him hostage had at once been blown apart, wrapping him with… with…

'A mist?' Stolas thought as he actually 'felt' the moisture on him. It came from above him, but there was no cloud in sight. Just what looked like a vale of heavy mist. This was yet another thing he could not place in his growing collection of memories, but he soon realized it was not a part of 'the show', as the memories restarted, once again, uninterrupted.

_There was not a place in Hell that they could go and hide. Not when the demon they would be running from was none other than the great, extremely feared demon lord: Asmodeus. His father was, of course, at the banquet after going to the games. But, if his royal guards – whom Stolas knew personally and thus knew what they could do when they had more than two of them to deal with simultaneously, they were in a really sticky situation. _

_Fear gripped Stolas, coming from himself in waves, but had its origins somewhere other than his heart. Stolas gripped his mother's hand tightly. It was a split-second decision which he made without fully knowing why. He closed his eyes tightly and channeled all the energy he had into his mother's 'other self' to finally reach her actual form with his mind. In this way, he saw things through her eyes, and though it was very brief, he saw that her legs were bond tightly in chains and shackles about to be tethered to a wall. Her wings had been restrained by two guards, who were doing their best to break them off, thus making flight impossible. Stolas then realized the pain, the headaches, screams had all belonged to his mother's actual form. He had felt it, because he was her child._

_An uncontrollable rage somehow welled up inside of him, and he used his connection with her to 'control' her body and its actions. His rage was powerful enough that, something like an explosion of energy came from the root of his mother's wings, and the guards were thrown into the air to bounce against the ceiling and crash down against the stone tiled floor. The force of Stolas' attack broke their necks and shattered heads, leaving them dead._

_Stolas' mother vanished from his side then, only to be replaced by her actual form. Now that they were free to leave, Stolas flapped his wings, testing their remaining strength. He was disheartened to discover that he had very little energy left in him to give. His mother then moved behind him and held him firmly against her. Stolas didn't offer any resistance, and kept concentrating on lifting himself up. She was still in a lot of pain with her broken legs dangling uselessly in the air as she hobbered. When their breaths and the beating of their wings finally matched, his mother began to chant. _

Stolas gasped, breathing heavily with exertion. Although this was only a replay of his own past memories, it felt as though he had actually been battling against those men in real time.

However, this time the pain he felt in his damaged wing felt strangely 'muffled' compared to what he had been initially subjected to. The mist that had settled around him caused the mysterious moisture to accumulate on what felt eerily like his own 'skin', making him feel as though he 'did' have a body of his own.

Stolas had no time to be dwelling on it, however, as the memories once again took all his attention.

_Stolas felt their bodies take off, and then disappear through the portal to the Earth. They ended up in the middle of a forest at night-time. Stolas was at once grateful and disappointed not to see 'the sun'. _

"_We're almost there, son. Almost". His mother said, her face drenched in sweat form the exertion. Stolas took a deep breath, and was shocked at the first taste of 'fresh air' as it filled his lungs. It filled his senses with an unexplainable energy and scent and flavor unlike the murky, dull, and 'dead' air of the Underworld he was used to breathing. _

_Stolas was then assaulted by seemingly millions of life-forces, and just as many sounds, all belonging to voices, fluttering of wings, thoughts and emotions that swirled around freely in the air. Then, he belatedly realized that what he had been breathing was the 'life-force' of all the mortal creatures - great and small – and the energy which their souls gave off in tiny sparks. Stolas was in awe, realizing that this was truly the realm of the humans, and of the 'mortals'. _

_However, all of Stolas' wonderings came to a screeching halt by a sharp sound that caught his attention. It sounded like something was coming at them with great speed; and it was coming at them from 'below'. _

"_Mother!" Stolas warned his mother, but her broken legs made her movements slow and Stolas was not quick enough himself to dodge the great spear that tore through the portal barrier – to pierce them both - just before his mother stepped out of the portal to move to another portal which would take them both to safety, if not the holy realm of her kin. _

_A sound unlike any other escaped her lungs at the impact. Stolas knew the spear very well, because his father always carried it with him to important gatherings and almost all his outings. He also knew that the spear was poisoned heavily. He saw the thorn-covered front paws of his father's steed peek out of the still half-open portal. _

_His consciousness was fading fast, the poison, along with terrible pain, were now coursing throughout his body. His mother had no chance of escape now, because the spear had pierced both her wings from the side, while it had pierced Stolas in his left hip, to stop at his right leg. They were trapped. _

_At that very moment, if Stolas could have regained enough mobility to turn his body sideways and reach his mother, he would have broken her neck off as a favor, because he knew what fate awaited her 'back home'. In reality, though, all he could do was offer an apology to both his parents. The sincerity of his apologies was not lost on either of them, however, because somehow Stolas was allowed to live. _

_Stolas' gratitude was short-lived. The moment he heard his mother be ordered to put in restraints, and to be taken back down to the dungeon until further notice, he felt his heart sink. But when his father promptly pulled the poison spear out of Stoals' hips, and struck him in the face, and then ordered him to be taken down to the dungeons 'along with' his mother, he felt he, too, was doomed._

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Ciel's Consciousness_

_Same Time_

"Sebastian!"

Ciel screamed despite his knowledge that it probably did no good. He couldn't help himself, because he knew exactly what would come soon after Stolas' 'capture', and what that particular event would lead to. What Lucifer showed him foretold as much.

Stolas had lost both his physical and mental health the first time around, and Ciel could not guarantee that he wouldn't do the same again this time. Ciel grew desperate as he watched a heavily bleeding Stolas and his mother dragged into the dungeon, through what seemed like a wall of demons surrounding them both and jeering at them. Neither of the prisoners offered much resistance, for they were both suffering from whatever poisons the spear had delivered into their bodies.

Ciel then began to recall 'his' own memories, of his own life in captivity, and reigned himself back into the present – only to find himself back in the middle of Stolas' memories. He felt sick, although he had no stomach to actually 'get sick' with. He scolded himself for this moment of weakness, and forced himself to continue – only to be faced with the sight of a dreadfully familiar brick wall, equipped with hooks and shackles, waiting to be occupied.

A streak of something falling what passed for his 'face' in this realm shocked Ciel enough to come back to himself. It kept falling, and confused him. He returned his full attention to Stolas' memories, but his raven lord wasn't yet crying. He was sweating and bleeding profusely and his vision were blurred, but there were no tears being shed.

It took Ciel another moment before he realized the liquid he kept feeling on his face were his own tears, although he had no idea how this was possible. For a passing second, Ciel tried to stop them from falling then abandoned the effort as he watched Stolas and his mother being chained to the wall, side by side.

* * *

_Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street,_

_East-End, London, England_

_Same Time_

Undertaker rose from his seat behind the shop counter as he saw that the cinematic record reels which had been covering the Earl were being reeled back in, and detaching themselves from the Earl. That was when he noticed something he hadn't before. The sections of reels that had left the earl's body were practically 'glowing'.

Undertaker took a risk and approached the earl and still-unsettled form of Stolas. Looking closer and downward, the death god noticed that some of the reels were indeed glowing; wrapped in a faint energy field before they went back into the books they came out of.

Undertaker also noticed that the young earl's book had already finished reeling back in. Well, that was to be expected. Walking carefully to the opposite side of the earl to face him, the death god was in for a shock.

The earl was crying. Silently and almost unnoticeably, crying. His eyes remained shut, and the tears had been dripping onto the cinematic record reels before they were re-absorbed into the book. Undertaker debated whether or not he should interrupt the earl's crying, but seeing that the films were not damaged in any way, decided to leave them be. (Which was yet another risk to take for Undertaker).

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Stolas' Consciousness_

_Same Time_

Stolas panicked the moment he saw 'the wall'.

It was a very familiar sight, for it was used every time someone was punished. Worse yet, it was quite often used when a 'public execution' was held. His mind issued another warning, before it began withdrawing into itself. Stolas identified the sensation as his mind's final warning, before it gave out and entered a catatonic state.

His past-self was busy fighting poison, and his mind was busy trying to come up with spells to alleviate its effects. His eyes were busy trying to squeeze themselves shut so that he would not have to witness a huge audience watching him and his mother with absolute glee, but Lucifer's spell forced his eyes to remain open.

Stolas then felt something touch him, and immediately felt some of the oppressive atmosphere 'lifting off'. He wondered if it was the same mist that had been wrapped around him, but this time, the drops of water fell on him with increasing volume, until they all but drenched him.

By the time Stolas became used to the flow of the water, he could 'feel' as though he had the rest of his limbs back with him. Then, with the feeling of having his body back, Stolas realized that he was – though very slowly - once again feeling his 'real self' come back into that pale blue world he occupied. The water kept dripping all over him, but Stolas willingly let them soak him.

By having something actually 'done' to his real self, he successfully pulled himself out of the prison he had subconsciously created for himself. The memories still kept on playing. Stolas watched as Lucifer's special interrogators plied open Stolas' and his mother's minds with powerful telepathy that felt like daggers being sent into his mind, and the effects from each and every second was no less painful, but Stolas now had what passed for a 'shield' in the form of the wetness that now covered him.

Stolas experimented with his new found defense tool by tilting his face upward, and successfully caught a drop of the water as it fell on him. It tasted slightly salty and familiar. It definitely was not water, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

The moment Stolas 'swallowed' the liquid, however, the sound of someone crying reached his ears. With it, Stolas realized both the mist and the water had actually been someone's tears. As he wondered where all the tear drops were coming from, he felt the very first of what he supposed were thousands of lashings fell on his past self, along with the dreadfully familiar sound of the whip being swung in the air before it hit its target.

Then, Stolas realized something shocking. He was still feeling the impact and the pain of each strike, and heard his past self cry out in agony. But, he felt no 'emotion' which he had been subjected to from the start. It was still extremely painful, but he did not feel 'the need' to run from it. With the absence of his need to run, came the absence of 'fear' and the ever-oppressive 'hopelessness'.

It took another long moment for Stolas to actually be rational enough to realize that this 'horror show' did have an end. It would take what he supposed was about a millennium's worth of memories and probably tens of hours and to finish, but it did have an end.

More than that, he had an audience – not the jeering, sneering, laughing demons that his past self was currently facing, but an actual audience with the capacity to feel sympathy for his past self.

_As the whipping session went on and on, Stolas vaguely registered that a majority of demons left for a while – along with his mother - only to come back again with Lady Echidna days later. By the time they secured his mother to the same spot on the wall again, Stolas barely had any skin left on his body. He could not make out every sing le word the guards and the interrogators were saying, but it sounded as though a trial for his mother had concluded. _

_Stolas also vaguely heard someone say that his own trial was not going to be held, because his punishment had already been decided and there was no need to provide him with any opportunity to 'explain' himself. Stolas weakly pleaded the guards and the officials gathered at the scene to have mercy on his mother, but they all laughed at him. Stolas felt his heart fall a second time when he apologized to his mother for his shortcomings as her son and she refused to say a word to him._

That mysterious crying still showed no signs of stopping. It sounded like it belonged to a child, but definitely not to a newborn such as his son. It kept coming, and it deafened some of the screams and pleading voices that his past self kept issuing.

This realization was followed soon after by the feeling of 'calm acceptance'. All he had to do was 'endure' and wait for the pain to end, because it did have an end. This was something Stolas was very much used to.

…That was, until Stolas was 'thrown off' by a powerful current of pain. It came quite unexpectedly, and the level of this particular pain was simply indescribable. Stolas felt the very foundation of his 'consciousness' shake with the sheer force of it as it travelled throughout his entire body and through every corner of his carefully-guarded mind.

An unearthly scream was torn out of Stolas – both his past and present self, and all sense of 'security' and boundaries in between the past and the present was blown apart, to leave him once again exposed and vulnerable.

_Stolas saw only his tormentors, but strangely enough, they were not doing anything other than standing in front of him. It confused him. _

_The pain kept coming in waves, and it wasn't until his own voice died down that he registered an equally unearthly scream coming from beside him. The demons were all up on their feet (or hooves), loudly cheering for whatever they were watching. Stolas then realized that all their eyes were not on him, but were focused on that spot next to him, where Echidna's long, lithe snake form had slithered to earlier. _

_It took Stolas another brief moment to fully comprehend what was going on, and when he did, he wished he was dead._

Blood relations meant a whole lot more to demons than it did to the mere mortals. For demons – and maybe even angels – being bound to another by blood meant they could sense or maybe even feel what the other was going through when in danger.

This was proven when he and his mother tried to escape from Hell the first time and felt his mother being attacked. Although the recipient of the danger signals can only feel a fraction of it, and one could even train oneself to 'reject' such signals as a method of self-preservation, Stolas did not have such a training against his mother's signals.

This was the same situation. Only this time, he was feeling someone die.

_Lilith's hysterical laughter topped all other demons' cheering, and as if that was not enough, Stolas heard Lilith actually approach him – with that red thigh-high boots she loved to dye further red with the blood of her victims – and quite roughly grab his head. Stolas struggled against the unmerciful hand of the Queen of Hell, but she delivered a vicious blow to his stomach to throw him off, then yanked his head._

"_**Watch**__." She commanded him. Lucifer's spell was still working on him and Stolas was subjected to a full view of what was happening to his mother. There was very little blood visible to him at first glance, but the absolute horror on her face matched the level of paralyzing pain he was still feeling from his mother. Lilith soon realized this, however, and yanked his head downward, to force him to see the floor beneath her suspended form. _

_Stolas immediately registered the pool of blood gathered on the floor beneath his mother's feet. However, what shocked him the most was the sight of the snakes – dozens of them – that were climbing up the very tip of Echidna's long tail that was currently curled around an ankle of his mother's left leg and seemingly disappearing through the opening in between her legs. _

Both Stolas' past and present self began retching as they fully understood everything.

Stolas listened helplessly as his past self began to once again plead for mercy, to stop this insanity, and to end it once and for all, but the demons only jeered louder. His mother's screams tore at is very soul. Now as an older self, Stolas understood what everything truly represented, than the traumatized younger version of himself.

_Lilith laughed again, and grabbed his head to force him to face her. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. We must be very careful with her, you know, since my husband wants to turn her into an exhibition! We can't leave scars on her pretty body, now, can we?" _

"_YOU…." …Was all that Stolas could get out of himself before Lilith grabbed his neck and squeezed, her long nails preparing to puncture his neck to sever the vocal cords. Stolas coughed, trying to breathe but secretly hoping to be killed. Lilith let him go, however, and Stolas now had a half-crushed throat that was incapable of producing nothing more than mono-syllables._

"_Lady Echidna's lovely pets are 'cleaning' up your mother's insides right now. Wherever it is you are hurting, is probably where the snakes are feeding on. But, they are strict orders to leave the best parts for my own pleasures."_

_With that, Lilith practically salivated as she imagined the taste of whatever part of Stolas' mother she was intending to consume. Stolas screamed again once the pain travelled up his abdomen, approaching closer to the chest cavity. His mother was beyond speech, her expression a catalog of horror and agony. The only sounds she produced were screams and ugly gagging sounds, and Stolas hoped death would take her swiftly._

They were executing an angel in hell, and not just any ordinary angel, but the wife of great demon lord Asmodeus, in the presence of their cross-breed son who was the only remaining heir of the clan, who had attempted to escape Hell with his mother. Of course, they wanted to take their sweet time killing his mother. They were not looking to end their best entertainment too soon.

For an angel, a holy creature of Heaven in origin, being 'gutted' alive like a large bird being prepared for roast, meant more than just a slow and painful death. It meant a humiliating and disgraceful death, and these two elements also meant a whole lot more when the subject was a female.

"_Your majesties, may I have the honor you have promised me?" Echidna called from her spot behind the condemned angel. Lilith had a silent exchange of signals with Lucifer, before she nodded._

"_We did indeed have a deal, Echidna. The honor is yours, but you had better keep your end of the bargain." Lilith announced, then lifted Stolas' head once again to force him to look on as the half-divine snake viciously bit down on his mother's wings, and with a vicious yank, tore them off of her back. Blood spurted out of the jagged wounds along with the snow-white feathers raining down upon the dark marble floor. _

_Stolas felt – though he knew she was feeling it a hundred fold, the terrible agony of the wings being torn apart. The force of the fresh pain, as well as the impact of having the wings yanked off of her back, momentarily detached his mind from his own body, and he floated briefly in the realm between consciousness and what he supposed was the realm of the eternally-condemned, before unceremoniously being sucked back into reality._

_Stolas felt Lilith walk away from him, only to stand right beside his bleeding mother._

"_Hold her leg up!" Lilith commanded, and Echidna used the length of her body and her human arms in order to hoist the condemned angel up and off of the accursed metal pole. Stolas gasped along with her._

_Stolas helplessly watched as she was kept suspended in the air by her arms. Her entire body was shaking badly as if she was either in shock or having a seizure. "Lower." Lilith commanded further as she approached. Echidna grinned maliciously when Lilith grabbed the angel's head by her golden locks and met her face to face. A stone basin was quickly slid over to the spot, over the pool of blood that had already soiled the marble floor. Echidna snickered, knowing what was about to happen._

"_Awww….. You poor thing. You aren't even good as a whore now, are you? But still, you are so lovely, with your know-it-all face contorted with soooo much pain. Do you long for death now, hmmm?... Well, if you are, then __**beg**__." Lilith's every word dripped poison within the hearts of those who had even a modicum of conscience._

"_P-Please…. Y-your m-majes…ty!" It was Stolas who begged her as best he could with his damaged throat. Lilith growled. _

"_That offer was not for you!" Lilith yelled, completely misunderstanding Stolas' intention. She then delivered a vicious kick to his groin to drive her point, making him scream. She then turned her attention back to his mother and licked her lips with anticipation. "Mmmmm….. you will make quite a fine feast for me." _

_With those words, Lilith steadied herself by grabbing onto the raised right leg of her prey. Then, with a vicious roar, drove her entire arm up the newly created passage in between the legs. Lilith's clawed fingernails and the force with which she drove the arm upwards were powerful enough to shatter every obstacle the body offered. Powerful enough to even reach the angel's heart. _

_Lilith grinned when she had the prize in her hand, then yanked her arm back out with a series of sickening wet sounds followed by a herd of small snakes she had pulled out along with her arm. She yelled for Echidna to 'finish gutting the damn bird' and for her guards to 'ready the body for exhibition'. _

_Lilith then victoriously tossed the harvested heart into the air and pierced it with the dagger she always carried on her hip as if the angel's heart was a piece of fruit to be savored. _

_As Stolas' screams died down to mere whimpers and finally felt his mother take her last breath, Stolas offered – although quite unintentionally – a prayer meant for the dying. _

_Stolas fell silent once he felt the connection between himself and his mother was severed. He was then left with just the discomfort his own body was experiencing._

_While Lilith was feasting on the heart, Lucifer climbed down the short stairs to stand beside the dead angel's face, and covered the angel's mouth with his until he had 'his prize' – the angel's soul._

_Lucifer knew this was dangerous, for this angel had, although substantially tainted by her mating with Asmodeus, a holy angel's soul. Consuming such a soul would be poison to Lucifer, but he still preferred this method of extracting the soul. _

_Once Lucifer had the glowing orb in his hand, however, he held it up for all to see. "This soul, this condemned soul, has earned its ultimate punishment – 'Obliteration'."_

_Stolas raised his head in shock, just as the rest of the audience roared with further excitement. He had heard of it, of course, but it was carried out so very rarely, that he had never even thought about it a possibility for his own mother. Lucifer locked gaze with Stolas' before he continued. _

"_An Obliteration of a soul, means that this particular soul will be extinguished, with no possibility to reincarnate or to exist in any way. This soul belong to no one, for its very existence will be erased. Take a good look at it now, everyone. You shall be able to see the body it used to be in, at the private dining hall of my castle."_

_The demons cheered, while Stolas simply stared at the still-glowing orb of energy Lucifer held. Then, Lucifer uttered a spell and created a shield to completely wrap around the soul, trapping it. Lucifer then stepped back half a dozen paces before casting his right palm over it. A moment later, the trapped soul all but 'ruptured', before disappearing without a trace, leaving an empty space behind. _

_The world turned into pitch-darkness the next moment as Stolas heard the excitement of the audience, and then felt himself getting sucked into the dark void where no sound or light reached his senses. _

'_**Run. Run and never look back.**__' – This was what Stolas heard in his mind before he lost consciousness._

As his past self headed straight into that dark place where there would surely be no chance to return from a second time, Stolas searched desperately for an escape, simply to 'remain sane'. Shaking himself, he cast his mind out for any trace of his one friend in this precarious realm.

Stolas was now smart enough to know that this time he would not be able to survive by himself. The first time around, it was Lucifer who had ordered Stolas to be completely healed and be forced out of the catatonic state. This time, he did not have that option. Although his heart and mind cried out for a break from this experience, his very soul screamed at him that failure was not an option.

Stolas' lips then caught the shower of tears that had saved him earlier. He didn't waste time taking the proverbial spider's thread out of the madness. He opened his mouth wider; to catch as much of it as he could, then found that his throat still worked. He felt his breathing settle down to normal, and felt that he was 'whole'.

Once again, he cast his mind for further trace of his friend and savior while thinking of ways to trace the flow of tears and locate the creature. The more tears he let himself ingest, the lighter his body felt. Light enough, he thought, to perhaps lift him high enough to reach the same altitude.

Just as the thought of 'reaching' entered his mind, he felt a sudden 'pop' at the base of what he supposed were his shoulders. A stinging pain akin to joint dislocation followed soon after the sensation, and Stolas yelped in shock and pain.

'How can this be? I don't even 'have' a body here!' Stolas thought, then actually tried to 'feel' his nonexistent limbs, but before he could, he felt another 'pop' – this time at his hips. The sensation was exactly the same as what he felt on his shoulders.

The pain from this one travelled all the way down to his toes, and with that current of pain, he felt the knees and ankles pop in succession, which made Stolas scream and made him feel like he no longer had the use of his legs.

No longer able to hide his mounting fear, Stolas began looking for an escape route, but found none. All he found was the same pale blue empty space. He ruthlessly trampled down his mounting panic, and once again tried to think of the owner of those tears that had so far saved him from going insane.

That was when Stolas finally 'felt' it. A faint touch. It started like a brush of a hand, or a …fluttering of a butterfly's wings, but definitely a 'touch'. Stolas halted all movement, then just concentrated on his surroundings but could not locate the source of the touch. It didn't help that the touch was not like an actual physical touch, but more like something or someone was brushing against his consciousness.

Just as Stolas regained his breath, he once again felt the same 'pop', this time at the elbows, and a series of the exact same popping sensation followed all the way down his arms to the very tips of his fingers.

Each pop left him in more pain than before, and Stolas couldn't help yelping and crying out with each one. His mind raced to come up with an explanation of this phenomenon. However, after a few more popping, he finally had a plausible theory, and it chilled him to the core.

It seemed his bones were really detaching themselves from each other, seemingly in an orderly fashion, and out of their own desires. Every rib, tough he could not see how it was possible, also detached themselves from the spine, rendering him nearly unable to move. His feet now felt the most strange, with every tiny bones seemingly moving around a bag of flesh.

What Stolas had to thank for, was the fact that his 'head' seems to be intact and did not yet show any signs of disintegrating. He figured the body needed the brain until up to the last moment.

All thoughts fled Stolas when he began to feel the vertebrates beginning to issue a painful warning. Stolas figured he had a mere few minutes before those began detaching themselves as well, leaving him completely unable to move. The major muscle groups in his arms, legs, and his rear began to 'gather' together to 'head' toward the center of the torso.

As the new, excruciating muscle ache consumed Stolas, his mind finally figured out – _really_ figured out – what exactly was going on with his 'body'. He had nearly forgotten the fact that his body was still in Undertaker's shop. These bone-deep pains he was now feeling were coming straight out of his actual body, in the realm of mortals. Factoring in the piece of truth regarding his origin, his theory became a rock-solid answer.

Stolas himself had never witnessed a successful case of this phenomenon called 'Metamorphosis', but he knew of a couple of past cases where the subjects returned to the Underworld as powerful demon lords.

The only difference with Stolas' case was, Stolas had no option of returning to Hell, if his ultimate goal was survival. Not only that, Stolas had already denounced both Lucifer and Lilith in the death gods' presence, while they were still in the middle of analyzing his life. It was as good as an official statement, which was as good as declaring war against them.

The moment Stolas reached that conclusion, came that whispering 'touch' again. This time, Stolas made a conscious effort to 'reach' it. He had no wish to hinder the process of Metamorphosis, this act of balancing out all of the elements that made up his soul. Metamorphosis was the epitome of Gods' art.

Stolas figured that, if he came out as a demon, he was going to be executed. Even if he came out as an angel, he would then become an angel who will never be welcomed to Heaven. Neither option was appealing, but he had to try. If not for himself, then for Ciel, because Stolas knew that the boy was still alive. If at least Stolas came out of this 'alive', there could be opportunities to save him yet.

When the mysterious touch came again, Stolas felt relieved to sense its source 'closer'. He tried again, this time adding a prayer to allow him to go to the source. He managed to grasp onto what felt like a ball of energy with the very outer edge of his consciousness, and immediately grabbed onto it to rein it in, then pulled with all his strength.

…To find himself in presence of none other than Ciel Phantomhive.

Although there was only Ciel's psyche and not the soul or the body Stolas had provided him with, none of it mattered to Stolas as that very moment.

"Ahhh… _Ciel._" Stolas released a shaky breath, wanting to simply crashing the boy against himself. So, instead, Stolas stretched and wrapped his own psyche 'around' the child's and reassured himself that they were, at least in heart and mind, together once again. "_It was you._"

Their contact, though not a physical one, felt so very real, and far more intimate than it had ever been while they both had their own respective bodies. Stolas could feel the very essence of the boy's vibrant soul, and the powerful sparks it gave off when Stolas tightened his hold on the boy and reassured himself further. "Of course, it was you. No one else could ever come this far." Stolas muttered as he held his treasured soul.

Once Stolas was over the initial shock, he tried to speak a few times to the boy, but he was not responding. He became worried once he realized that Ciel must have lost consciousness once Stolas' past self went into catatonia, and barely had the presence of his mind to remain active for Stolas to locate him.

The sudden pause of the cinematic record, and the equally-sudden 'detachment' from all the physical pains Stolas was in, had afforded him and Ciel a much-needed respite.

Stolas once again sent a signal to Ciel, feeling the boy's subconscious respond, letting him know that Ciel was only resting. Now utterly relieved, Stolas sent his reply:

"Thank you for saving me. Please rest awhile."

* * *

_Undertaker's Shop_

_An Unnamed Street,_

_East-End, London, England_

_Same Time_

The earl's tears kept falling over the demon prince's cinematic records all the way through the rewinding process. He sincerely, wondered just how long this had been going on, but he had his suspicions. When at last all the reels had been rewound and the book returned to its original closed form on the floor, the earl suddenly collapsed on the floor beside Stolas.

This was when Undertaker noticed for the first time that those horrible sounds that had been pushed out of the prince's mouth constantly were now silent, along with the movements from the 'changing form'. Undertaker took a closer look at the earl's face, seeing that he looked extremely pale and exhausted. He debated with himself whether or not to move the earl off of the floor and away from Stolas. Then, he went against playing safe, again, and decided on a completely opposite course of action.

Undertaker picked up the earl – a soul so powerful that it refused to bow even to the most powerful leader of the fallen angels and dared to challenge everyone, everything and every rule that stood in his way, with only one desire: to belong to Prince Stolas – and placed him within reach of what he believed were the demon prince's arms, then placed the earl's right hand over the prince's.

Stolas falling silent indicated one of two things. The first was that the prince has gone into the final phase of the Metamorphosis. Second was that the prince had given up on life and was dying.

Undertaker's assumption was proven correct when the prince began the slow transformation into the cocoon form, starting with the detachment of the bones and joints which made the once-slender and toned body of the demon prince look like a bag of flesh and blood with bones swimming inside it. Every orifice became closed and nonexistent, including the eyes and the ears.

Looking and observing for the next two hours brought no change from the two figures on the floor and he safely determined that Stolas had entered the final phase: Cocooning.

* * *

*Please, I beg you to post your reviews... :'O

*Next Up – The 3rd part (Grand Finale) & Epilogue…


	15. Chapter 10iii Metamorphosis Finale

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Chapter 10iii : Metamorphosis

Written by Second Wind

Ahhhh…. Finally, I am here. :'D

Thanks to absolutely EVERYONE who has supported me through this very long journey by means of PMs, commenting, and by registering this story as one of their 'favorite' stories. I am very much indebted to 'LovelyWickedDescet', 'Hyper kid007', and of course 'blood and rain' for their wonderful multiple chapter reviews.

I deeply, deeply thank everyone who has patiently stuck with me and this story until now. Every single review that has ever been posted for this story is deeply appreciated and cherished.

However, my biggest thanks still goes to GoodbyeMyHeart, for graciously agreeing to co-write those 3 chapters. This has been a difficult journey, but all-in-all a worthy one.

There is only the Epilogue (short!) left of this story, and I hope that all of you will be back to read it. Then… Well… Then, I really hope that you would come and read the sequel… If it's not too much trouble… lol

*The latest source of inspiration 1: A song, "_Far Away_" by Libera

* The latest source of inspiration 2: A song, "_Bird_" by Yuya Matsushita

(One of the ending theme of 'Kuroshitsuji II'. The singer is 'Sebastian' from the Kuroshitsuji musicals).

*The latest source of inspiration 3: A song, "_Place in This World_" by Michael W. Smith

*The latest source of inspiration 4: A song, "_This Love_" by Angela Aki

*The latest source of inspiration 5: A song, "_Harmonia Vita_" performed by Aya Hirano

(From the soundtrack of "_Sigma Harmonics_"** - music composed by Masashi Hamauzu)

**"_Sigma Harmonics_" is a Nintendo DS game produced by Square Enix (same as Kuroshitsuji) which was released back in 2008. The main character Kurogami Sigma was done by Daisuke Ono, the one who does Sebastian Michaelis' voice in Kuroshitsuji. This is the first work I had ever come across Daisuke Ono's voice and fell in love with it. Furthermore, many other voice actors who starred in this game are also starring in Kuroshitsuji.

***It is also very interesting that in "_Sigma Harmonics_" Ono's main character serves the ancient gods of Japan through fate by combating evil spirits with a tact and by playing the piano; while in "_Kuroshitsuji_", Ono's main character is a demon who (ultimately) serves the rulers of Hell and survives by hunting for mortal souls though contracts.

*The latest source of inspiration 6: "_Onmyo-ji_" A comic series by Baku Yumemakura

The stories are based on ancient literatures in Japan, regarding one of the most prominent 'Onmyo-ji' or 'the Ying-Yang masters' of all time, named Abeno Seimei.

*The latest source of inspiration 7: "_Matthäus-Passion_" by Johann Sebastian Bach

*The latest source of inspiration 8: An illustrated book, "_The Celestial Railroad_" by Rei Kagaya

This story was originally written by Kenji Miyazawa about a century ago. The author passed away before completing the story. It has been said that the unfinished manuscript was discovered at his deathbed. (It has been one of my all-time favorite stories ever since childhood.) I hope that the author actually 'got to' ride the Celestial Railroad to Heaven, as well. : )

* * *

_William T. Spears' Room_

_Guest Quarters Building _

_Christian Kingdom_

_3__rd__ Day of the Blockade_

William T. Spears resisted the urge to straighten his appearance for the hundredth time since entering the room.

There was no one but himself in the room but he felt the distinct unease of someone who was clearly being watched by someone or something, and he figured that the closer to God Almighty one got, the closer he felt he was under scrutiny.

Spears literally jumped an inch off of his bed once he heard a series of soft knocking at the door. He hurriedly answered and was stunned for a moment as he was greeted by a now-familiar, soothing fruity scent of arch angel Raphael. Spears bowed deeply.

"Lord Raphael. How may I be of assistance?"

Raphael smiled before answering.

"May I come in, Sir Spears?" Raphael spoke softly but with the air of someone who needed to talk privately. Spears hurriedly stepped aside in order to admit the angel then took a seat only after the angel directed him to do so.

"How may I be of assistance?" Spears repeated his earlier question, and was met by a soft smile.

"Actually, Sir Spears, I was hoping that I could be of assistance to you." Raphael replied then looked downward toward the younger man's torso.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I believe you have been experiencing some… rather unpleasant symptoms of delicate nature."

Raphael's tone was still soft, but his expression now turned a bit serious as he zeroed in on Spears' abdomen. Spears' eyebrows jumped a notch as he realized what the angel was implying.

"W-Well… Umm… it is nothing serious, lord Raphael. I was advised to go to a physician if things worsened, but…"

Spears was caught off-guard by the question because Stolas had asked after him right before they parted.

"Whoever has caused you the injury was intending to kill you, and to do so very slowly. Such evil can come only from the Underworld, and the one who did the healing was extremely well-versed in the art of healing."

"Yes. Prince Stolas has helped me along with my superior."

"I came here, hoping that you will allow me to …finish the rest of the job. In order to do that, I will need to examine you."

"The rest of the job?" Spears asked, incredulous. Raphael nodded.

"The spells which I sense from the healed wounds were mostly the ones that were meant for humans and some non-humans, mixed together to do the work. However, not everything agreed with your specific biology. That is why you are experiencing difficulty digesting anything and why your eyes are tiring more easily."

"You could tell all of that by looking at me, lord Raphael?" Spears was shocked. Raphael nodded.

"He did everything he could, as best he could. He just did not know how to heal death gods as much as he knew how to heal demons, humans, and animals. Prince Stolas is not to be blamed for this." Rahael commented while continuing to scan Spears with his eyes. Spears contemplated but was getting confused.

"My lord, are you saying that you can fix the symptoms I am having, and that you 'know' the correct spells that I needed to be fully restored in the first place?" Spears asked, wondering why he had to have so much focused on his abdominal area while his head had sustained the main injuries. Raphael nodded.

"Exactly. May I examine you?" Raphael was now speaking like a physician and Spears began fiddling with the belt buckle, then came to stand before Spears and laid his hand, palm flat, against Spears' toned muscles. Spears watched as Raphael closed his eyes and muttered something in deep concentration. Spears stood stock-still, afraid of what was happening and what exactly had been done to him.

Come to think of it, both Stolas and Undertaker had been vague about what treatment Stolas had done to him.

A sudden tingling and a few jolting movements 'within' his body stunned Spears back to the present. He took a quick breath but realized that Raphael was still not done with him and ordered himself to 'behave'. The tingling sensations continued for a short while longer along with the muttered spells Raphael uttered and Spears found his mind drifting off to another time - and to another realm - as he found himself staring at 'himself' – with a group of demons holding him down onto the ground. Spears sucked in a quick breath, remembering everything about the confrontation.

Spears felt bile rising to his mouth but the urge disappeared instantly. Then, he found himself down on a metal table, this time with Undertaker and Stolas by his side, as they scurried around looking for what they needed to save him.

Spears felt another urge to vomit when he began seeing what was actually being 'done' to him, with Stolas gritting his teeth – or fangs – as he worked as quickly as he could, muttering a series of incomprehensible spells, checking Spears' internal organs with the practiced ease of a physician.

However, Spears soon noticed that Stolas worked with the desperation of someone who was pressed for time and stressed with the shortage of resources; although in this case the shortage was more of knowledge than actual medical instruments. Stolas was clearly pushing himself to use – and – 'weave' multiple spells in order to 'avoid' using those that were meant for demons. The very effort turned Stolas' eyes simmering bright pink.

It was marvelous to watch the demon's hands working and sealing every wound without using any needles and threads like humans and often even death gods did.

Once the surgery was done and he had been dressed again, Spears saw Stolas and Undertaker lay him down on the couch, and after a brief discussion, decided to keep the whole thing quiet.

"Sir Spears?" Raphael's voice broke Spears out of his trance and he found himself flat on the bed he was 'standing next to' before. Spears jumped to his feet. He instantly noticed the changes to his body, for he felt 'lighter'. Raphael watched with a small smile.

"Yes, lord Raphael?"

"How do you feel now?" Raphael smiled wider and Spears took a minute to contemplate before nodding.

"Is …what I saw ..real?" Spears asked, wanting nothing more than to clarify. Raphael nodded.

"I am afraid so. It was an unfortunate side-effect of what I did. I corrected the spells that were put on you, and in order to accomplish that accurately, I needed to replay the deep memories that your body has kept. Plus, I needed to replay your memories – since you had not placed a block on your memories from us angels – and because I had a unique skill to do so." Raphael smile an apologetic smile. Spears sighed. Raphael stood to walk toward the door.

"I also had a selfish need to …study what Prince Stolas was capable of. I must say, it will be a great loss to us healers if he …fails to survive the Metamorphosis. I would very much like to work with him." Raphael said as he showed himself out.

Spears felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his body as his organs began functioning properly but his heart – as in 'figurative' heart – was quite another matter. He stayed awake for the rest of the day, pacing inside his room until an aid came to serve him a sizable dinner course complete with Raphael's recommendations for a variety of herbal drinks. Spears stared at the food not sure of what would happen if he ever consumed anything in this realm but took a bite of the cut fruit in fear of offending the angel.

His stomach growled, announcing its need for more sustenance. Spears blushed with utter embarrassment, and quickly ate the rest of the fruit salad before moving on to what looked to be a stew made with vegetables and crushed nuts. Spears was relieved to find that everything tasted the same as they would on earth and in his realm, and found that his body actually was taking in and absorbing whatever food his mouth delivered.

The angel who quietly watched Spears eat, smiled warmly.

"You should feel a strong urge to sleep in an hour or so. When you do, please follow your body's advice and take a good rest. Lord Raphael will check on you in the morning but you can call on us if you feel anything out of the ordinary."

Spears thanked the angel and closed the door, then looked out of the windows, seeing the stars up-close, at an impossible angle for those who worked on earth or his own, death gods' realm.

* * *

_Raguel's Palace_

_Christian Kingdom_

_3 Hours after the Meeting - Same Day_

The messenger arrived what constituted the Department of Justice here in the heavenly realm, bearing the latest update for Raguel to mull over.

There was not a whole lot that Raguel could do unless the flow of time on earth – along with the blockade – ended. However, this gave them all an opportunity to 'catch up' on work and this was exactly one of those occasions.

The bounty-hunters who attacked William T. Spears had not yet been identified. However, from the copy of the case file Spears delivered along with the great death god's report earlier they had enough suspicion that the hunters were acting upon orders from Lady Echidna. Not only that, but the next statement – though obviously scribbled in a hurry – worried Raguel more than anything else. Raguel recited the words silently to himself:

"_The cinematic Record of Prince Stolas revealed a number of deceptions by Lucifer for he placed a powerful memory blocking spell on most of Stolas' memories about Lucifer himself, including the details of Lord Asmodeus' capture. In the after-mass of a successful Metamorphosis, beware of those who will try and use 'the truth' against arch angel Raphael, and if in case the prince turns 'dark', watch out for those who seek to turn the prince against you._"

Raguel only had a very vague idea on what lies Stolas had been told by Lucifer, and hated the fact he could not ask for a copy of the record – or to go down to the death god's realm himself and ask for the book to be shown to him.

The truth was, of course, the great demon lord had murdered seven prospective husbands of the human female Sarah whom Asmodeus fell in love with; and it was Raphael who eventually helped capture the demon lord by using the ground-up liver of a fish that had been caught in a river by a candidate for Sarah's new husband. It had also been Raphael who upon advisement of both Uriel and Metatron, forced him into exile by banishing him to a remote location in Egypt.

Raguel knew that, after a Metamorphosis, if the subject became an angel but was coerced into committing a crime or sin worthy of any of the 7 carnal sins, that reborn angel would immediately become a fallen. The easiest ones for this particular demon prince to fall into would either be 'wrath' or 'lust'. However, Raguel supposed that by the mention of 'Asmodeus' the latter was unlikely.

He itched to know what Lucifer's own sizable record would say about what lies the fallen angel exactly told Prince Stolas. Especially when the other mentioned angel – Raphael – had such high hopes and expectations for the raven prince. As for whether or not Stolas' anger would be directed against Lucifer the deceiver or the actual arresting officer Raphael could only be learned when the prince actually learns the truth. Lucifer and Echidna could cast a brain-washing spell on Stolas, then play the role of kind guardians to Stoals saying they felt they were protecting Stolas from the truth.

However, Raguel felt in his heart that Stolas was far smarter than to fall for such a shoddy trick. Which would also mean that even if Stolas became a demon again, he would once again be damned for speaking against the king the moment he questions the king of fallen angels' words.

If Stolas' name will not come off of the 'death list' even after the Metamorphosis ended in a success, Raguel will have a very difficult – and tricky – maneuvers to execute.

* * *

_William T. Spears' Room_

_Guest Quarters Building _

_Christian Kingdom_

_Next Day_

The new day began with a message from Raguel requesting Spears' presence at Uriel's palace again. Remembering the path he took with Raguel and Raphael the first time, Spears headed out right after a light morning supper of tea with pastries. However, the minute he exited his room, he was met by an escort.

"Sir Spears, I am under an order by Lord Raguel to safeguard you, at all times, during your stay in our realm and especially while you are outside." The angel said, his tone indicating that his was serious business.

"Oh." Spears managed to reply, stunned to hear the news. 'Why would I need a guard while staying within the Heaven's Gates?' Spears wondered but bowed in polite acknowledgment and followed the escort outside.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, but Great Lord Uriel determined it a necessity, for reasons which I am not at liberty to share with you." The escort added after seeing Spears' reaction. Spears nodded in acknowledgment of this fact as well. Spears quickly followed up with his own words.

"I did not intend for you to be pressured into answering me any questions. Just… never thought that I would be assigned any escort. Especially not from your military force."

The escort nodded, then they walked the rest of their way toward Uriel's palace, generally enjoying the scenery, the cleaner (fresher) air of the place, and the way the sky looked far clearer and 'closer' than in the realm of the mortals and even more than in his own, death gods' realm.

There were far more – and prettier – species of birds here in heaven as well and upon a closer look, Spears found more than a few sported official symbol of angels and their government offices and realized that those were all messengers for various departments or personal messenger birds assigned to specific individual angels. Spears supposed they were like the pigeons for death gods. Only the most important messages from those who were at the higher ranks had angels as personal messengers.

Then, Spears was suddenly surrounded by a flock of tiny golden birds, all circling in the air above his head. Spears was then honestly surprised when at hey all burst into a song. They were singing in Latin, of all things, and Spears stared at them with open mouth as they sang songs for his enjoyment, and kept staring at them as they dispersed in the air as soon as they were done singing.

"…Well…" Spears managed to say once he saw his escort smiling widely.

"It seems they were under employment to sing for you. They specifically targeted you."

"…Huh…" Spears got his heart rate down to normal and sighed in relief. The birds sung quite beautifully and their voices were like well-played chimes that kept playing inside his head long after they were gone. Spears then lost is battles with a furious blush once he saw that other angels were looking his way and raising their hands in acknowledgement. Spears returned their friendly gestures with bows, not knowing what else to do.

If Spears thought the singing golden birds were the end of it, he was in for more surprises as another flock of brightly colored birds came his way, this time dropping off a tiny flower bouquet which had been arranged neatly and was made into an accessory. His escort laughed, then took it from a flabbergasted Spears' hand and secured it on the lapel of Spears' suit jacket.

"Well, you look more like a groom waiting for a bride now." The angel teased, and Spears inwardly groaned. The angel cleared his (or her) throat and turned to look Spears directly in his eyes.

"I am being serious when I say this, but you should never disregard any gesture of kindness or …affection, no matter what form it takes. Keep the flowers for as long as they last and they may bring you good luck, or …good health. Some arrangements of flowers give you extra protection."

The angel lectured the uncomfortable-looking Spears but the death god nodded in understanding. He would not be caught dead offending any being from this holy realm, and that went for those tiny birds as well.

As it turned out, the two-hour long meeting at Uriel's palace was held in order to brief Spears on what to do and where he was allowed to be.

"We do not want to hinder you from enjoying life, Sir Spears." Raguel stated, to which Spears shook his head.

"Lord Uriel, there is absolutely no need for you, or any of your officers to be taken off of their regular duties solely because I might become 'bored'."

"You are humble, and I appreciate that greatly. However, it is our responsibility to keep our guests in good spirits, as well. We cannot keep you 'locked up' and drag you around our realm just to attend meetings. Especially not when we have no idea how long this Metamorphosis will go on." Uriel pressed, then motioned for one of his personal guards to bring out a map for Spears to have a look.

"If I may," The officer began, to which Spears nodded with a sigh. "The buildings which are marked with yellow outlines are the ones which we have determined safe for you to enter at your leisure. You can participate in any activities that are going on inside any of these buildings, and any necessary equipment is there for you to rent. Most of us angels do not have many personal possessions because we simply do not need any."

Spears adjusted his eyeglasses and took a closer look at the buildings. It took only a minute for Spears to determine that the word 'leisure' was the operative word here, because the buildings which he was not allowed entrance were all military facilities and correctional facilities. The buildings which he would need a written permission to enter were the infirmaries, libraries, and research facilities. Spears sighed again.

"I know for a fact that you are a wonderful artist." Uriel commented, startling Spears out of his thoughts.

"Pardon me, but I am not an artist." The wide-eyed Spears' expression made Uriel smile inwardly.

"You do draw descriptions of suspects and sometimes even landscapes which you found necessary in your field reports to your superiors, do you not?"

"Well…" The ever-deepening crease in between Spears' eyebrows became pronounced.

"I also believe you to be a wonderful dancer."

"I have not had any opportunity to 'dance' in a great long while. I am afraid I will only embarrass myself." Spears felt his body begin to sweat with nervousness.

"Quite a wonderful voice, as well."

"I have never sung in public." Now Spears began to experience a strong urge to flee the room.

"Are you wondering how in the world we, the angels, know of your hidden talents?" Uriel finally offered an out, enjoying the sight of an increasingly reddening Spears.

"Well, considering you are who you are, you have many ways of learning about just about every single creature on earth and every individual in …our realm." Spears said as he cleared his throat.

"Actually," Another familiar voice – this one belonging to Raphael – came from the doorway, and Spears turned to meet the arch angel and bowed deeply in respect. "it is true that we knew about your artistic talent from your field reports – some of which your superiors sent to us for recordkeeping. However, your potential in singing and dancing were our guesses.

"I have noticed that the way you carry yourself and your posture are most often seen in dancers. Your muscle tones also suggested it. The way your voice carries itself for a long distance effortlessly even when you are speaking in a normal tone has also suggested that you had some type of formal training, as well as a natural talent, in singing."

"…Yes, you are indeed correct, lord Raphael." Spears threw in the proverbial 'white flag' of surrender. Raphael smiled. "I was in the choir until my voice changed, and once again in the Death God Academy, I took up singing …and a bit of piano lessons as a part of my 'art' class."

"Then, I recommend that you be taken to some of our mortal residents' activities, as well. Our mortal residents have their own orchestras, musical groups, and theatre groups for their own enjoyment. We also have quite many expert instrument players, and they hold concerts periodically."

"If I may," the guard with the map spoke up again, and all eyes turned to the younger-looking angel. "I can take Sir Spears to some of my favorite locations for landscape painting. He is even welcome to use my personal set of drawing tools." The angel said, looking up at Spears with a child-like innocence Spears rarely came across. Spears could not find it in his heart to say 'no' to that face.

"Thank you. That is …most kind of you."

"That settles it, then. Be alert at all times, Sir Spears, but also be on the lookout for any opportunities to 'be yourself'. This is certainly not your office. Your colleagues, your subordinates and your superiors are not here. You have our trust, and we would like to earn the same from you. That is all."

"Lord Uriel, I have never doubted…" Spears protested, afraid that his loyalty was on the line.

Uriel raised a had to reassure the flustered Spears.

"I know, but this is our realm, this is my way of treating our guests. Please humor our attempts to entertain you."

"Also, I have a request to make." Raguel added after exchanging a silent look with Uriel. Spears nodded for the arch angel to go on. "If anyone comes to you, asking you about your own realm extensively, or comments on anything related to this blockade, and especially anything about 'Metamorphosis', please let me know."

"…Of course, lord Raguel." Spears nodded, realizing that the arch angels were on a lookout for anyone with a dark purpose or too much curiosity.

Spears figured this to be a way for the angels to fish out anyone within their realm who were pining for the opportunities to sabotage the Metamorphosis in progress, or to Stolas if he ever became one of their own.

For a moment, he thought this could just be a reason the angels wanted to give to Spears, in order not to make him feel like a tourist on a forced sightseeing trip. Either way, Spears now had no way out. He resigned to his fate and nodded his thanks. Then, he realized an important question he wanted to ask the previous night.

"May I ask where is the best place I can go to pray?"

This question from Spears made the angels smile.

"For visitors, we generally tell them to do so out in the open, where there is no barrier in between them and God Almighty. However, in this case, please use the private prayer room in my palace." Uriel offered, startling the young death god.

"W-What? No, that is too much! I will just stay in my room, or do it in the courtyard with everybody else." Spears was adamant about this. He had never heard of a death god praying in an arch angel's estate.

"It is an open invitation, Sir Spears. I can see that this 'prayer' was not for yourself, but for someone important. That in itself is something to be respected. Especially when the one who is praying is a death god. You do realize that the members of your race are 'gods' themselves, even though you act as an 'in-between' most of the time."

It was true that not every death god actually 'prayed' seriously every day. Even fewer did so for someone other than themselves.

In the end, Spears took the invitation, and thanked them deeply as he left the meeting room with the two angels who were to guide and to guard him.

* * *

_Shop of Undertaker,_

_An Unnamed Street,_

_Downtown, London, England_

_Same Day_

A loud gasp was heard – this time from Ciel – and Undertaker saw that the Earl's tears had stopped and the cinematic reels had released his limbs. Undertaker got back on his feet and approached the child carefully, alert for any movement.

Just as he leaned down to have a closer look at the child, Ciel's body suddenly became relaxed and soon began to fall to the floor in accordance with the law of gravity. Undertaker caught Ciel just before his head hit the floor board.

For a moment, he considered placing Ciel on the surviving couch or even atop the only remaining coffin in the shop, but decided against it in the fear of hindering the prince's progress.

"At least, allow me to do this much." He commented toward the prince's cocooning form, and began to clean the child's face off with a wash cloth dipped in remaining fresh holy water. The dried tear streaks on Ciel's cheeks suggested deep emotional reactions to whatever the child had witnessed, and Undertaker seriously hated that a mere mortal child had to be a witness to a demon's lifetime's worth of memories.

Seeing that the child was now unconscious, Undertaker quickly checked on the child. Feeling relieved to see that his soul was indeed still alive (though he exhibited no sign of being 'alive' outwardly), Undertaker once again swept the wash cloth over the floor board before settling Ciel back on the floor next to the cocooning prince.

Just as Undertaker was about to return to his seat at the counter, Ciel released curled up in a fetal position, one of his hands unconsciously reaching out to Stolas' form. Alarmed, Undertaker was prepared to take Ciel away to a safer distance, but realized that Ciel was instinctively reaching out for Stolas. Undertaker walked over to the two forms once again, watching intently.

Ciel, not finding the hand or the arm that he was looking for, settled on lying his hand, flat-palmed, over the general spot where Stolas' arm was once located. Relieved to see that the child was not about to damage the cocoon, Undertaker dragged the stool he was sitting on to a much closer spot and took a seat.

"Give me a sign." Undertaker muttered as he looked toward the ceiling – and toward the heavens.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time_

"Oh, dear God, _NO_!"

Stolas exclaimed when, for seemingly no apparent reason, the 'horror show' of Stolas' own life somehow restarted.

Stolas checked with Ciel, and realized that the child was still asleep. This meant that this 'continuation' of the show hadn't started because Ciel willed it to. Also, it looked like whoever that had the control was not about to show itself, either.

Stolas fought with the urge to wake the sleeping child, but chided himself for the weakness. He told himself that Ciel had helped him well enough, and long enough. Besides, he knew instinctively that the worst part was over and done with. He also knew that this was his life, and therefore, this show had an end. Also, more than anything, he was no longer alone.

Securing his hold on Ciel's consciousness, Stolas gritted his fangs and endured the experience. The Black Death incident passed by in a breeze, followed by some of the better years which included his rise in power, some of the worst encounters he had at Lucifer's private sleeping chamber, and Regina's support, then his past contracts flew by him, each lasting no more than a few moments.

Stolas' thoughts paused upon the images of his first official contract, and remembered the young woman whose father's farm was in jeopardy and asked him to save the family business in exchange for her soul. The contract was completed several months later.

Then a dozen or more contracts flew by until Stolas' mind became locked on David the explorer. They had gone all the way through to China via African continent with that contract, the preparation of which and the actual expedition lasting a whooping 5 years. The contract was completed once they reached China where the young man decided to put an end to the contract.

This was the first soul that Stolas decided to keep, mostly because David was entertaining to be with, and Stolas had no one else to discuss his memories of that long journey, and because David had a wealth of knowledge regarding the human world in general. His jokes saved Stolas on many a tough night, and truth be told, it was David's jokes that made Undertaker laugh to win favors for Ciel.

Then another dozen noteworthy contracts later, he came across Tasha, the 'mate'. His encounter with her was, although a legitimate contract, only a two-week-long deal, because all she wanted was to survive the gang-rape / attempted murder and to take revenge against the offenders.

Stolas rather liked her wrath toward the offenders, and since she was a breath-taking beauty, he thought it better to take her home and make her his. Besides, he liked the fact that she had fallen deeply for him, he used her shamelessly (and mercilessly – especially while the cocktail of drugs remained in his system due to the days spent at Lucifer's bedroom) for his own pleasures. Stolas felt sick to his stomach, thinking just what kind of treatment she must be receiving right now.

Then, more contracts and brief trips home flew by, before he finally reached his years with Ciel Phantomhive. Stolas released a shaky breath, finally relieved that his favorite and most recent years were starting.

"Ahhh… My Ciel." Stolas muttered, once again holding Ciel closely against his own consciousness, and relaxed for the first time since the show began. From here on, there truly was nothing for Stolas to fear.

As the days and years with Ciel Phantomhive went on and ended all too soon for his liking. Then, the post-Ciel days, although they were brief, began to play out. This part was very much within his own recent memories, and the parts which was not known to anyone in the Underworld. He watched as his past self nursed Ciel's soul back to health, then left Ciel in the basement to go retrieve his newborn son, then rescued the said son, and 'experienced' the burning of Ms. Simmons, left the baby with Soma, then pulled Regina out of Hell, rescued Spears, and spilled his guts to Undertaker.

The reels ended soon after, and Stolas was once again left in the light blue space with nothing but Ciel and the mostly extremely unpleasant memories – and accompanying thoughts – to sort out. Stolas sighed, trying to straighten out all the events he had witnessed.

Then, the memories of his own mother, and Lucifer's deception inevitably came after his sanity once again, and Stolas held on to Ciel as he struggled to distance himself with his past.

* * *

_William T. Spears' Room_

_Guest Quarters Building _

_Christian Kingdom_

_Midnight - Same (or the Next) Day_

"Are you quite all right, Sir Spears?"

The guard asked a completely exhausted Spears as the young death god dropped in the couch of his guest room.

"Yes, I am. I will be quite fine by the morning, thank you."

Spears reassured the smiling angel, and returned the bow the guard gave him before the angel showed himself out.

The day had been packed with various activities, starting from the tour of various scenic spots where the view was truly beautiful. As a result, Spears spent over 5 hours drawing the landscape alongside his 'guard', who had an extra set of sketching tools for himself. The places where they had gone all had sweeping landscape, a view of either a lake, a river, or a creek, covered in rich soil and myriad creatures happily going about their respective lives.

However, since they were going from place to place in a relatively short amount of time, Spears had not been able to 'complete' any of them. When he mentioned this fact to the angel, he was told to expect the angel within 2 days' time.

"I have not finished mine, either. We will finish them together." …Was the angel's reasoning.

After returning to the guest quarters, he was greeted by not his supper as he had expected, but by a dinner invitation at the estate belonging to the curator of the museum of this holy realm. Not finding any reason to reject the invitation, Spears was escorted to the kind gentleman's unexpectedly-simple estate.

The dinner itself had been 'normal' enough, but what he had never expected was the small army of young children (all angels, of course) who begged Spears to 'play' with them. Not having any idea how to play with children, Spears went with the flow.

Spears ended up getting down on all fours and letting them climb on him, and be dragged into the heaven's version of 'hide-and-seek' involving not just indoors but the rooftop and treetops, and even 'singing' and 'dancing' with them when one of the kids decided to show his piano-playing skills and everyone began to sing and dance around the living room. They taught Spears the lyrics and all the moves until Spears could do them flawlessly.

What Spears realized once he was left alone in his guest quarters, was that he never once looked at his watch, which he used to look at least fifty times every day, and that his face hurt from either talking, smiling, or laughing entirely too much for a single day. This was a decidedly foreign feeling for him.

However, what surprised Spears the most was the fact that he did not feel any shred of regret or felt any need to scold himself for being so 'care-free' about any of what he had done.

After cleaning himself up in the private bathroom that was attached to his bedroom and deciding it to be too immoral to visit Uriel's estate at this hour, Spears opted to opening the window to 'remove the barrier' in between himself and God Almighty, then prayed until exhaustion made him close the window and crawl into bed.

Spears decided not to dwell on the fact that he had been praying for an already-deceased human child and his demon master.

* * *

_Location Unknown_

_Ciel's Subconscious_

_Same Time _

"…el?" Ciel caught the voice, but it was very faint.

"…Hmmmm?" Ciel answered groggily.

"Ciel?" There it was again. 'Damn it, I must have fallen asleep!' Ciel thought and struggled to rouse himself.

"Hmmm… I'm up."

An equally familiar chuckle was the reply. 'Who was it again?'

"Ciel, my dear. You don't have to be 'up'. Just talk to me." The voice wasn't coming through his ears. Rather, it was all around him.

"Mmmmm… I feel tired. Really, very tired." Ciel answered already trying to go back to sleep.

"I understand. Just give me a little time."

Ciel knew that voice anywhere, but strangely, he couldn't place the name and the face to go with the voice he was so very fond of. It felt very weird to Ciel that he could not even remember where he was. He knew that this was not his bed nor any place he has ever lived in. Strangely, though, he couldn't care less about it because he felt, above all, that he was 'out of the danger zone'. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion soon forced him to stop caring about everything else.

"Bring me one of your tarts and I shall listen." Ciel replied, not fully comprehending the oddity of his own words. 'I must be dreaming.' Ciel decided. 'This must be one of those dreams where I am awake, and everything is back to normal, and Sebastian will bring me my early morning tea with the scorns and sugar-crusted raspberries and… Wait a minute!'

Startled into reality by his own thoughts and with it a flood of his memories, Ciel bolted upright….Or, so he thought.

In reality, all that happened was his fingers twitching a little. But inside his mind, a heated discussion was being held.

"Ciel, my dear, what are you doing here?" The very voice Ciel had long abandoned any hope to hear again filled his senses.

"SEBA…! I mean, my lord, what are you doing here?" Ciel demanded, knowing that Stolas could not have returned to Hell, let alone inside Lucifer's palace to rescue him.

"Ciel, lose the 'my lord'. I left all that behind. Furthermore, as far as I know, it is 'you' who have entered this space, and this realm. I was here, alone, before you got here." Stolas sounded exhausted as he spoke each word with deliberate calmness. Ciel frowned, instantly realizing that he needed to be careful with what he had to say, and to think through their situation before spilling any of what he wanted to say.

"…..So, where is 'here', exactly? Also, you are a noble and the rightful owner of me and my soul. You cannot just 'leave' that title behind. Not without compromising me."

"Actually, I… That is what I needed to talk to you about - among many other things. I am glad that I have somehow been given this opportunity."

Ciel tried to get his bearings and understand his surroundings. Now that some time had passed, loads of memories – from bad to worse to unmentionably worse – were coming back to assault him.

"Ciel?" Stolas called him when no further response was heard from the boy. Ciel grunted.

Stolas struggled to put his own thoughts and emotions in check – at least enough to be able to speak with the boy coherently.

"Ciel, _where_ we are, is not something I can answer with any level of clarity. However, I do have a very good idea." Stolas' voice still filtered through to Ciel, seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Ciel struggled to open his eyes, and found himself 'floating' in an empty, blue space. This was a very similar place, though it felt a whole lot 'safer' than that vast gray space he found himself in when Angela abducted him.

"Where are you, Sebastian? I cannot see you anywhere. Are you all right?"

"I am… as well as can be expected for someone who is in my position. As for our not seeing each other, maybe we are not meant to. Not until the right time comes. Let us just settle down a little, so that we can move on to a more ...pressing matters."

Stolas reasoned, because he needed Ciel to focus on what he was about to say. Ciel sighed, sensing somehow that Stolas really needed 'his Ciel' back.

Ciel wanted to start telling everything that he had experienced in Luicfer's palace, and everything that he had heard – and everything that he 'felt' and thought about during captivity. He wanted to, more than anything, but he sensed just as strongly, that he was not yet meant to.

"Sebastian, if I did not know any better, I would say that you summoned me here. I do not know how, exactly, but I was …lifted out of _there_, and in _here_. Undertaker seems to have a role in everything that has been going on around us."

"I am in agreement with you that Undertaker is involved in everything related to our current predicament. But, as I was saying, please give me some time."

"I am sorry. Please continue." Ciel nodded, forgetting that Stolas could not 'see' him.

"Thank you. I realized that you were …wherever you are because I felt you try to reach me."

"Okay."

"I …think you have been trying to help me without having any idea how to do so."

"Well…" Ciel then realized he had no memory of what he had be doing, or thinking, before waking up in this 'space'.

"Do you remember when you had your cinematic record almost revised by that angel, Angela?"

"Of course, I do."

"And what did you do?"

"I… refused to accept her sugar-coated lie." Ciel answered matter-of-factly.

"Were you aware that, you were rewinding your own cinematic record? I was watching it happen, and I actually saw you rewinding the reels."

"I did not really try to rewind anything. I did not acknowledge these …images as cinematic record at the time."

"Do you recall seeing Undertaker there in the library?"

"Yes, I do."

"That is who I went to ask for help, Ciel."

"He is one of the highest-ranking death Gods, is he not?" Ciel asked, remembering vaguely of his conversations with the old man before finding himself in this place.

"Apparently, yes."

"Did he really help you, though? With your baby?" Ceil asked.

"Yes, he did. He also helped with the mother."

"The mother of your son? Matilda Simmons?"

"Yes. Because of that, she is in heaven now."

"That is splendid."

"Hopefully, Lord Lucifer would not think about pursuing him. I would not want Lucifer or any of his servants laying a finger on him. I wish you could have met him, Ciel. He was this… adorable little thing. Full of energy and curiosity and …inherited wisdom."

Ciel was surprised, to say the least, since he had never heard Stolas talk this way before about anyone. …The closest that ever came to it was the way he talked about cats. 'Speaking of which…' Ciel thought, and broke the news.

"I have managed to keep myself from revealing the existence of your son."

"R-Really?" Stolas was honestly shocked, and Ciel grinned.

"Yeah, it was tough, but I managed to keep Lucifer and Lilith distracted with other …stuff until Undertaker's trick whisked me away." Ciel spared the gory details from Sebastian.

"That… That is…" Ciel heard Sebastian's voice hitch with emotion.

"You are welcome, Sebastian." Ciel answered, getting the message.

"He hurt you." It was a statement, spoken by someone who knew exactly what Lucifer was capable of. Ciel shrugged, before remembering that Stolas couldn't see him.

"A whole lot less than what he did to you, and probably less than what I did to you." Ciel stated. Stolas sighed.

"You did not mean to cause me harm. It was partially my own fault. What I meant was that I read my …death warrant, signed with your blood. I knew exactly what that meant, as did Spears and Undertaker, as well as their superior."

Ciel listened closely, his curiosity piqued. However, as he listened to Sebastian update him on the rest of what had been happening on earth, Ciel became more and more certain that his 'Sebastian' could never return to Hell.

Stolas was not happy when Ciel only gave him 'selected' witness accounts of what happened to Ciel in Hell, but Ciel did not feel this to be the right time to reveal everything. Stolas sighed, respecting Ciel's need to be careful. Then, he sighed again when he tried to reach out to Ciel despite his lack of limbs.

'If I had arms to hold you with, I would have been squeezing you half to death by now.' Stolas thought.

"I will have to know everything, Ciel. …You mean more to me than you will ever know."

"…Fine. Now, can we move on to the rest of …whatever it is you needed to tell me?" Ciel hurried on, feeling his nonexistent face blush with embarrassment.

Ciel was never good at confessing his innermost feelings, and he was equally not good at having affection showered on him, even when he craved it, and even when it was his 'Sebastian' who was doing it.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Stolas smirked, knowing his 'young master' well.

"Very well, Ciel. …On the matter of Ms. Simmons, I had to let her die by fire first, and by that, I mean 'execution', as in 'burned at the stake'."

Stolas winced as he recalled the fires that licked her entire body – and through her mind, his own body. He cleared his throat, and he felt that Ciel sensed it. This startled Stolas. It seed that more and more of Ciel's thoughts were flowing inside his mind. As Stolas contemplated this, yet another thought 'popped up' in his own head.

If Stolas was not wrong about his hunch, it felt as though Ciel was longing to be held in Stolas' arms, or at least make an eye-contact with him, but neither of them had any body parts to offer here. Stolas sighed inwardly.

"By your saying 'had to', do you mean that it was necessary to do so in order to let her go to heaven?" Ciel asked, and Stolas decided not to hold back.

"Yes. You are sharp as always."

"Thank you. So, what is the harm in it?"

"…_He_ will definitely hate me."

"By saying 'he', as in 'your son', then you do not know that." Ciel said, no doubt trying to reassure him. Stolas decided to spill the brutal facts to Ciel.

"Demons are not born oblivious like humans, Ciel. Demons have developed senses before they are born, and I myself was not an exception."

"What do you mean by that?" Ciel asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.

"We can hear, feel, and think way before we are born into the world. By the end of the first trimester, we are equipped with all the six senses. I was already an angry, jealous, and violent soul before I was born, because I was raised with my mother's voice telling me how I ruined her life."

"Oh. Yes, I remember." Ciel sighed, undoubtedly recalling the extremely unpleasant parts of the demon prince's cinematic records they just saw.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Ciel's Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Ciel was beginning to understand – in more ways than he thought possible at first – who 'Stolas' truly is. Also, he had noticed that as time passed and their in-depth conversations progressed, more and more feelings, thoughts, and 'words' that could only have belonged to Stolas were invading his own consciousness. This was confusing, as if there were the both of them inside his head.

"We the demons have no feelings of love and affection. Angels do." Stolas continued.

"But, your mother is an angel." Ciel blurted out before he could censor it. Stolas sighed.

"Apparently, yes."

"So, she should have been capable of loving you." Ciel pressed on, feeling it was 'necessary' somehow, to get this out in the open. He wondered if he would ever know just how the world – the entire universe – really worked, and if anyone besides God Almighty had full understanding of it.

"Yes, she could have been. …She did ask me to forgive her for the way she treated me, though I could not find 'forgiveness' in my nature at that time."

"Why did you not tell me all of this before?"

"Because, my dear Ciel, I did not remember this before. Not until I got to Undertaker's shop and he told me what my mother was."

"How old were you when your mother was murdered?"

"You see, I was about thirty, but considering the demons' eternal life-span, I was practically a boy. Kind of like you, when… you lost your own parents." Stolas' voice hitched a bit, and Ciel did not miss it.

"Sebastian, are you all right?"

Stolas cleared his throat, and took a few deep breathes. Ciel could feel that Stolas cursed himself for making Ciel worry.

"I am sorry. It is still so new to me." Stolas answered tiredly, but his words didn't make sense.

"...What are you saying? From what I understand, it must have been millenniums ago."

"I did not remember it all, until you came here."

"I? Why not before then? Undertaker…"

"He did not tell me everything, Ciel. You made it happen."

"Why would I read your…?" Ciel stopped when more glimpses of his recent memory returned to him. "…Oh." Ciel realized then, that Stolas had probably been oblivious to it all, until the cinematic records began actually playing, in both their presence. "Oh, my…"

"Do you remember now?" Stolas sighed as he said it.

"…Yes. But I did not know… I never made a conscious decision to reach the book and read it. …Sebastian, do you know what is happening to you right now?"

"…No. All I remember is lying down on a couch in the death god's shop and opening up your cinematic records because I was offered to read three books. One belonging to you, then mine, and the third book belonged to my …natural mother."

"Then, he had both of ours in his possession."

"That is …probably our connection. The cinematic records."

"So… you opened up my book, and read whatever was in it?"

"…Yes. I saw your life, as much of it as there was." Stolas spoke deliberately slowly, assessing Ciel's reactions.

"…Well, I hope it was entertaining enough for you." Ciel couldn't help sounding sarcastic.

"That word cannot do justice for what I have seen, Ciel." Stolas' reply sounded uncharacteristically kind, and sincere. Ciel felt himself blush again.

"All my secrets, fantasies, lies, and…" Ciel continued, testing the waters and trying to sense Stolas' mood.

"…Hopes." Stolas finished the sentence with an air of finality.

"Yes." Ciel agreed, knowing that Stolas knew he was rumbling on.

"I think I remember feeling sick and nauseous as I neared the end." Stolas' voice sounded farther and unfocused.

"You made quite a mess. Even Undertaker could not believe it."

Ciel tried to recall the scenes the best he could, so that maybe Stolas could see it.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Stolas tried to get a glimpse of what Ciel was trying send to him, but to his frustration, he could only 'sense' what Ciel was trying to do, and not the actual images. Having no other choice, Ciel updated Stolas on the happenings and Stolas listened.

"I still cannot grasp the whole thing, but… Undertaker had you summoned to get us here – wherever 'here' is, in order to get us together. He did that by using our cinematic records. Then, my desire to keep you and my son safe practically consumed me, because my own life was in danger and things were happening that even I or Undertaker could do nothing much about."

Stolas was thinking aloud, and knew that Ciel was picturing Stolas doing so as Ciel had seen him do on many occasions.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Ciel's Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Ciel wondered whether or not it was safe to address an issue he was itching to have out.

"…Sebastian?"

"Yes, Ciel?"

"Just how long did it take before you woke me up?"

"….."

Stolas was clamming up. Not a good sign at all. Ciel hurried to keep their conversation going.

"Besides, I have no idea why I lost consciousness. You knew I was there, right?"

"…I think you passed out and you kept the show going somehow, up until this… phenomena… first occurred."

Stolas spoke slowly, his tone full of uncertainty that Ciel was unused to hearing from him.

"I gave my own testimony regarding my time with you to Undertaker, Ciel. I could not lie, so I spoke truthfully, and from my heart. Undertaker gave me hints that put many details into perspective for me. Talking to him really clarified the …details of my life with you."

Stolas' voice sounded a little deeper and his words came out a little slower, in a way it always did when Stolas was in deep thoughts. Ciel was busy imagining what those perspectives might mean, and he was startled when he heard Stolas speak again.

"As for why either of us passed out, it could only have been caused by 'stress' and 'pain'. You were most likely traumatized emotionally, while I was suffering from both. …I woke you when I felt I was okay enough."

Ciel felt that Stolas hated admitting this weakness to Ciel, but was feeling more need to be honest than acting tough just to improve his image. Ciel tried to clear his thoughts to focus on his own.

"Did you say 'pain'?" Ciel did not like the sound of it.

"Humans do not possess the abilities to sense or feel things as much as we the demons do. When you feel pain, we the demons …well, I am a cross-breed, but still, I feel about ten times as much of it as you do. We have an extremely high pain tolerance, but for good reasons. However, I am not as immune to the emotional pains as I can be against physical pain."

"Oh, no…." Ciel gasped with the realization. By having his visions linked to Stolas, he had opened up the carefully sealed wound – a whole millennium's worth of it - and unleashed the memories all at once into Stolas' defenseless mind.

"Well, we both wanted to know." Stolas reasoned.

"Well, I did want to know. I just… are you really okay, Sebastian?"

"No." Stolas' reply was immediate. Ciel winced.

"What can I do to help you?" Ciel hated himself for sounding desperate. Stolas released a deep breath.

"Nothing other than what you have been doing, Ciel."

Ciel was confused. 'Does he mean my talking with him?'

Ciel tried to imagine just what Stolas meant, but could not put his finger on it. Stolas beat him to it.

"You were crying for me earlier, were you not?"

"Huh?" Ciel hurriedly felt for his cheeks, but realized he had no hands – let alone an actual face - to do so.

"I saw an image of you, crying. The tears you shed as you watched my life – the most horrible parts of it – unfold before you. I have no idea why, but I remember that you were completely naked."

"Oh…." Ciel muttered, then remembered that he really had arrived at Undertaker's shop in his birthday suit. He felt the blush return to what passed for his face.

"They helped me through it all." Stolas announced. "They acted like …a mental shield of sort. Only because they were sincere tears, and only because they came from you. I also think they helped taking much of the poison out of the whole experience."

"…Oh." Ciel blushed and was glad Stolas couldn't see him.

"Also without realizing, though, I think you took much of the burden from me, and took them as your own to bear."

"Why do you think so?" Ciel thought Stolas was giving him too much credit.

"Because, you would not be crying for me otherwise. Especially not you, my dear Ciel."

'_Oh, he is using that D-word again._' Ciel thought.

"Well, I am a human, and I can be emotional and…" Ciel couldn't help becoming defensive.

"Give me time." Stolas said, a little impatiently.

"Sorry."

"The first time this happened … when those things were actually happening to me, especially after I witnessed my mother's demise… I was so out of my mind that it put me in catatonic state for months until they pulled me out of it by force. Then, after my wings were severed, it took an entire century to heal. …I can't think about the details yet. The pain is too new." Stolas paused to organize his thoughts.

"Sebastian?" Ciel interrupted gently, the way Stolas used to do after Ciel suffered nightmares.

When Stolas did not answer, Ciel decided to risk speaking out of turn again.

"While I was being held up in Lucifer's castle, he and Lilith both forced me to watch what was done to you. They did this as an attempt to change my feelings towards you."

A loud gasp was heard from Stolas, but Ciel still could not get anything further out of the man. '_Well, I might as well finish my thoughts_.' Ciel thought.

"But I…" Stolas struggled to piece his thoughts and new information together. Ciel pressed on.

"They did not succeed, Sebastian."

Another gasp – louder and deeper this time – was heard, followed by a series of rough breathing.

"Sebastian, I must warn you that I did not see much of anything that Lucifer showed me within your cinematic records. I have no idea why, but it is my suspicion that your cinematic records had been doctored."

Ciel stopped once he sensed Stolas was at his limits, and waited patiently.

"Come to think of it… I think you are right about that. …Cinematic records show only the most noteworthy events in one's life, but… the recent memories, especially after my years of hunting for human souls began, the records only showed my past contracts and some of the most recent battles I'd been in on behalf of Lord Lucifer. I didn't particularly notice it, because I had those memories to begin with." Stolas paused to release another deep breath before continuing, "What …did _they _show you?"

"I saw you the way Lucifer saw you. Are you sure you want to know?" Ciel cautioned Stolas, warning him of a possible danger. Stolas took several deep breaths before nodding – and realizing again that Ciel couldn't see him do so.

"I have you with me this time. I need to know as much as I can take before the next step."

"After you had your wings torn off of your back, they put you in a cell and let you suffer. You were doing nothing other than screaming until Lucifer came to check on you. The warden was strictly ordered to 'break you', in order to reform you. You were left screaming, until your body failed and someone called Uphier healed you. They broke you, brainwashed you, and humiliated you for an entire millennium. Then, Lucifer took you out of the fighting ring and forced you to serve him."

"…..Ciel, I cannot recall a majority of what you just told me, but it fits perfectly with what memories I have recovered." Stolas' voice remained steady, but Ciel felt Stolas' 'hold' on his consciousness tightening considerably. He hated not having a pair of arms to return the embrace.

"If it is possible, you should consult with someone who can figure out just what part is true and why your 'cinematic record' of all things, did not show these events."

"Yes, I must. But, first… am I correct in assuming that …you have learned what I have done for Lord Lucifer most of the time?"

"I saw only what was on the cinematic records, and what Lucifer showed me. I know you were forced to provide your own body for their …perverted pleasures. I saw the way your pain and hunger ravaged you in the dungeon, and the way you were forced to battle other prisoners to survive. …Although they never told you this, Sebastian, they were never 'allowed' to kill you off. They were only training you, in order to kill off your… what they referred to as 'other self', in order to turn you into a monster, but one who would stay submissive to them."

"They were wrong. I denounced him and Lilith, in Undertaker and Spears' presence. They crossed me, once too many, the moment they hurt you."

Ciel heard and sensed the depth and the power of 'anger' Stolas was feeling. Ciel remembered Undertaker's words about this 'process' being a sacred event and that Ciel had to be careful about what he said. He supposed the same goes for Stolas and felt he had to do something to pull his lord back in.

"Sebastian, I know what you were, and who you were, as much as what you are _**now**_, and who you are_**to me**_." Ciel tried to guide Stolas away from 'danger zone' with this statement. Determining that this was just a good time as any, Ciel decided to press on.

"Sebastian, I must …confess something." Ciel began, hoping that Stolas would not be mad at him.

"Hmm? What is it, Ciel? …Your saying 'confess' means it must be something very serious." Stolas was all ears now, and his eagerness was very easily sensed by Ciel.

Ciel began recounting about what Lucifer and Lilith were discussing (or ranting on) about – just prior to Ciel finding himself here. Stolas listened closely then asked questions from time to time, before Ciel was done and Stolas was done digesting the information.

"Ciel, you have no idea just what you were about to do to me, do you?" Stolas questioned Ciel in a serious and unmistakably angry tone. Ciel winced.

"Not exactly, no."

"It is partially my fault – again - that you are unaware of what 'you' mean to me, but what you have almost done would have practically '_ended_' me."

"Huh?"

"I am saying, that if you were taken from me, never to be mine again, I would have certainly 'ended'."

"Well, '_someone_' high-up had other ideas. Otherwise, this whole thing would have never happened."

"That is not what I meant! Please recall what you told me just now, about what Lady Lilith and Lord Lucifer told you about us both." Now Stolas was angry again, and Ciel felt the man's frustration. Stolas was obviously trying to let Ciel figure it out by himself. Ciel decided to ask for a respite.

"Could you let me think it through, and proceed with the rest of whatever it is you were trying to accomplish by waking me up in the first place?"

"**No**." The reply was immediate. Ciel grimaced. "What was the crime they charged me for?" Stolas began, sounding calm once again.

"For the crime of… loving a human being."

"Yes, and by 'a human being', they meant _you_."

"I …know that already." Ciel grumbled, blushing furiously.

This was the first time Stolas confirmed it to Ciel directly. But then, Ciel had to voice his own reasons.

"Well,_ I loved you, too_, and that is why I did everything I could to 'silence' myself! If I did not, 'they' would have found out about your son!"

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time _

…Stolas was speechless for a very long moment, before he fought down a very strong urge to start either crying or laughing. He settled on doing both, but silently.

That one statement from Ciel was so very 'Ciel Phantomhive' that he had always adored, respected, and eventually loved.

"Sebastian?" Ciel asked, before realizing what he just said, and how childish he sounded. "Never mind…" He grumbled and fell silent.

Stolas continued once he got himself under control.

"Ciel, you have to know that what you have done for me is more than anyone has _ever _done for me. However, you must also know that 'self-sacrifice' is not always the best way to express it. If you had died then and there, and I was left alone here, I would not be 'me'. Which brings us to the rest of what I have to say."

Stolas paused for a moment to organize his thoughts.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Ciel's Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Ciel waited, feeling relieved and 'lighter' now that he had voiced his deeper feelings to Stolas.

"My dear Ciel. What I am about to ask you, is something I have never dreamt of asking you. Answer 'yes', 'no', or 'I do not know' is entirely your choice. But, you must answer honestly."

Ciel never failed to catch the 'dear' again. "What is the question?" He asked, silently congratulating himself for sounding stronger than he felt.

"Ciel, do you…? Would you like to …_be _with me?" Stolas asked, each word sounding as if they weighed a ton.

"I _am _with you." Ciel answered, wondering just why Stolas was asking him this question.

"No, I mean _really_ with me." Stolas stressed the 'really'. Ciel felt what passed for his face turn red.

"…Is that not against the law or your ethics or something? You turned me down, Sebastian."

"…No, I did not mean it in '_that _way', either. I meant something deeper."

"Okay. Just give me a description then." Ciel sighed and readied himself.

"You will most likely cease to exist." Stolas got right to the point.

"…Fine." Ciel answered. 'I hardly exist, anyways…' he added silently.

"I will most likely be 'changed'. …To what, or how much, I do not know. I have absolutely no clue."

"If you do not survive, none of us will." Ciel stated matter-of-factly. "So, _how_ am I supposed to be 'with you' now?"

"I will be taking you _inside _me." Stolas put an emphasis on the 'inside me' part. His voice sounded deeper and a little bit intimate.

"Do you mean, you are going to eat me?" Ciel swallowed at the statement.

"No. Similar but not exactly the same."

"Well, then…?"

"I cannot keep my body like this either, so I will be …how do I say this… taken apart. Both you and me. Then, we will merge and most likely evolve into something else entirely."

"….Huh?" Ciel was a bit confused. He berated himself when he heard Stolas sigh.

"Think of us both as 2 separate, individual eggs."

"2 eggs. Okay." Ciel dutifully pictured 2 chicken eggs.

"Break the shells." Stolas sounded like his old self in the 'tutor' mode.

"Okay." Ciel also enered his 'student' mode.

"Stir the eggs together." Stolas' voice as unchanged when he let Ciel have it.

"Okay. …OH!." Ciel 'got' the point right then.

"Break the shells down into powder form." Stolas continued on.

"….." Now, Stolas' meaning was clear and he could only listen in a horrified silence.

"Mix them in." Stolas continued mercilessly. Ciel could hardly breathe.

"Now, imagine a worm."

"A worm?" This broke Ciel out of his own horror show.

"What does it do after a certain period of time, when they stop eating and growing?"

"…It becomes a butterfly, and flies away." Ciel recalled one of their lessons in the gardens.

"Before that." Stolas was being patient, and Ciel could feel it.

"It …forms a cocoon." Ciel's voice fell a little at the end, realizing he had the correct answer now.

"That is right. Now, pour in the stirred egg mixture from earlier into a giant cocoon. One that is big enough for the both of us."

"I'm getting there." Ciel was now 'really' getting there.

"Our souls, our bodies, even our hearts will merge, and will grow into…" Stolas left his sentence unfinished and Ciel took the hint.

"…That mysterious creature."

"Yes. But, you have to be willing or both of us will fail at this."

"I AM thinking. I AM willing, but I need time to adjust to the idea…" This was a lot to take in for what would now be a 14 year-old. But, Ciel had an idea.

"Take as much time as we have." Stolas was pressing without sounding like it, and Ciel knew it.

"Is that… Is that what was going on with you?"

"A preparation of it. Yes."

"A Metamorphosis?"

"Yes. It happens only in between two offspring from the opposite corners of the universe, and I have only known this to happen within our religious kingdom. So, as far as I know, it happens only when an angel / demon crossbreed offspring is successfully born. It is a …very rare and mostly unsuccessful union."

"Why did you choose me?" Ciel genuinely wanted to know, because if more ways than one, Stolas was risking his life by choosing him.

"Any soul I take for Metamorphosis must be perfect match to me. I cannot think of a better one than you."

"I am honored." Ciel replied sincerely, and his sincerity transcended into the demon/angel crossbreed soul of Stolas.

"Thank you." Stolas's reply sounded a bit hoarse to Ciel's ears.

"You are welcome, Sebastian." Ciel assured him.

"If I …we …every get out of this alive and I still had my memories and hopefully my mind intact, then I do not mind calling myself by your name."

"What, 'Ciel'?"

"Yes. It means 'the sky' in French, and I belong in the air. I am a guardian of the air, and my post was the 'Eastern Wind' as 'Prince Stolas'. Also, because the last two letters of your name means 'god' or a 'deity' while in other kingdoms it means 'the son of Sky and Earth'. Either way, it fits."

"So I guess that is why all the major angels have the 'el' at the end of their names?"

"Yes. I also liked the name you gave me, but it's already taken by the famous martyr saint." Stolas commented.

"Well, I am doubly honored." Ciel answered honestly.

"Good." Stolas replied, then released a breath he had apparently been holding. "Ciel?" Stolas asked, his voice taking on an odd 'vive'.

"Yes?"

"I need you to be prepared for this as much as possible. Is there anything, anything at all, that you need to tell me?" Ciel inhaled sharply and took his time contemplating.

"There's a lot that I was shown by Lucifer and Lilith in Hell. But I do not think that I have anything I need to learn about you now and I do not believe that I have anything to tell you about myself that you do not already know."

…This was, as difficult it may be to believe, the honest-to-'whatever' truth. Stolas was quiet for a long while, and Ciel could feel him trying to figure Ciel out. Ciel for once, sighed and let him.

CIel let go, and removed the guarding walls he had built around himself, because these walls no longer helped either of them. Ciel didn't exactly know how, but somehow, a floodgate opened and everything – absolutely everything that he kept at bay – was unleashed.

In a distance – or maybe no distance at all – he thought he hears Stolas gasp.

Ciel closed his eyes and let himself – all his thoughts – float up and away. – When Stolas's voice called his name, it sounded shockingly close, and it broke him out of his reverie.

"Ciel, I think you opened the lid of the 'mystery box'. It is… happening." Stolas' voice sounded at once afraid and excited.

"I am doing this right, then." CIel spoke, relieved that this was indeed what he should be doing. He felt sharp pains unlike anything he had ever felt before.

"I… I cannot stop this. My body …is changing from the inside." Stolas gasped.

"Where do I go? Where is this 'cocoon' you were referring to?" Suddenly fearful, Ciel opened his eyes and looked around. He could only see the same pale blue.

"We – physically speaking – should both be inside Undertaker's shop. That must mean we are practically right next to each other. We should try and be more close, before I lose my body and we both… dissolve or break or whatever." Stolas' voice sounded stressed.

"How do we 'wake up'?" Ciel started looking around an exit.

"I think I am way past hat stage, Ciel. 'You' will have to come to me."

Growing desperate, Ciel began to move, seemingly wading through the sea of pale blue substance that still surrounded him. He closed his eyes, forcing his tears and panic out of the way, and thought only of 'Sebastian'. 'My Sebastian', Ciel added. – Until he felt himself being pulled into what could only be compared to a vortex, and still forced himself to only think of 'Sebastian'.

Soon, his thoughts and feelings toward 'Sebastian' filled every corner of his mind and heart. His rare sincere smiles, his lectures, healing hands and addicting scents.

Next came the memories of his dancing steps and mocking words, his violin performances and his singing. His curry fried bread, his magic tricks that were no magic at all, his superb fencing skills and hand-to-hand combat, all his martial art moves and all the fun Ciel had in his arms while the man carried Ciel from rooftop to rooftop then rock to rock, and even tree top to treetop, when necessary.

All the things Sebastian repaired after Ciel or his servants broke them, and all those heavenly massages he gave, with all the light, sensual kisses his lips dropped on Ciel's bare skin while Ciel shattered into pieces in his arms, and those same hands would then put the shattered pieces back together then soothe him down until Ciel fell into an exhausted deep sleep. Then of course, all those bullets, knives, swords, whips, burning-red iron sticks, pincers, body blows, and chainsaws that Sebastian willingly took on Ciel's behalf.

Yes, 'Sebastian Michaelis' was everything to Ciel Phantomhive: his rightful owner, protector and guardian. But, he is also Ciel Phantomhive's teacher, advisor, sparring partner, a chess mate, an weapon, a pawn, a means of transportation, and a driver. Just as he was a parent – both a mother and a father rolled into one, the perfect butler, and a business partner. – Just as much as he is a healer, a researcher, an investigator, and a scholar.

And, Sebastian Michaelis is either perfect or very damn near-perfect in all these roles.

"How could I not love you, Sebastian? How could anyone not love you?"

That was Ciel's last thought before he saw the pale blue surrounding him change slowly into a grass-green color.

_

* * *

_

Shop of Undertaker,

_An Unnamed Street,_

_Downtown, London, England_

_Same Time_

Ciel's body dropped flat on the floor and before Undertaker tried to help him to at least lie down comfortably where he was, the bones of the earl gave way and the earl's body began releasing sounds that were distinctly similar to that of the joints detaching themselves.

"How could this be…?" Undertaker muttered, wracking his brains for explanations, theories and solutions, until he remembered ha the boy was a deceased human soul whose body was a replica of his former self provided by Stolas.

"Ahhhh…." Undertaker sighed with both relief and awe. "So, you are joining your lord." The fact that the child put up no resistance also meant that he was doing this on his own free will. "You'd better not fail, Prince Stolas." Undertaker whispered next to the cocooning demon prince's for, and began cutting away the clothing for they were hindering the progress.

Then, he hurriedly readied a basin full of holy water and wiped down the earl's body as much as possible before the earl's body turned into a bag of loose bones, blood and flesh as well. Then, even the bones turned into liquid making the whole thing look like smooth soup.

The only remaining question for the moment was 'how' the earl was supposed to join the prince for they were both separate souls and bodies. He patiently waited for the sign even as he kept applying holy water on the body's body.

The cinematic reels began moving about the two would-be cocoons, eventually gathering around the two forms and completely surrounding them before they wound tightly around the two forms and began to push them closer toward each other, moving them from their original spots on the floor to line up next to each other.

Undertaker figured out the puzzle as the two forms were drawn closer and closer, until they were pressed up against each other.

A loud rattling noise suddenly came from the top of the counter, startling Undertaker. He ducked just as the prince's hand-made crown sailed right above his lowered head, straight toward the two cocoons. Undertaker tensed, not knowing whether he should take it away. But in the next moment, the crown itself began to disintegrate. The precious stones had completely dislodged themselves to fall in a small pile before they each began to further disintegrate themselves silently into a sizable pile of shiny 'sand'.

Now mesmerized, Undertaker instinctively realized this was something he just could not – and should not – ever interfere.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Stolas' Subconscious_

_Same Time _

Stolas felt more and more of his 'physical' self disintegrate, and the more he 'let go', the more of 'Ciel' – his thoughts and feelings that felt like a steady stream of life-giving water that filled every crack in his soul. Stolas remembered from his trip with David to the land of the Rising Sun, where he came across the ying-yang masters of old, who said something about 'returning to one's origin of all origins; to the very essence of one's soul'.

Stolas listened to Ciel's 'thoughts' as they kept flowing inside him. He then realized instinctively that his 'soul' knew what to do. He had to somehow 'get them' to merge together. He knew that a cocoon was formed straight out of one's body, so he figured if Ciel was doing this correctly, there are supposed to be two cocoons on Undertaker's shop floor side by side.

Finally smiling to himself, Stolas tapped into whatever view was afforded to him of the outside world, and began looking for the one thing he always kept at hand – with the exception of when he was 'hunting for souls' on earth – and began searching for it. He knew 'it' would come in handy, and if there ever was a time for it to become 'useful' in the way he had desired – and designed – for it to be, this was the time.

Stolas soon located its powerful energy field, and began muttering a string of very complicated spells, carefully weaved to work on the very foundation of each and every element it possessed, even while taking from its rich reserves of 'energy' to use as his own strength.

_

* * *

_

Location Unknown

_Ciel's Subconscious_

_Same Time _

In the distance, Ciel began to see some movements - stirring of air although there was no wind or a breeze that came his way. As the current began to form a vortex much like his own, Ciel figured it must be 'Sebastian'. Ciel willed himself to get closer and realized that he no longer had a body.

Well, Ciel knew that his physical body was long deceased and even the body Stolas had given him had now been separated from his mind due to this Metamorphosis phase, but what Ciel now felt was a complete lack of the very 'concept' of a body. Up until just a short while ago, Ciel had been conversing with Sebastian as if he still had all his limbs and body parts intact. Now, however, it looked as though he was doing everything 'without' a body.

Ciel thought hard, for thinking now took all his effort and figured that he was at the 'stir the eggs together' stage. 'I must be with Sebastian. I must be with Sebastian…' It became a mantra, until he began hearing directly in his mind the familiar voice belonging to 'Sebastian'.

It was quite obviously a foreign tongue, for he had no idea what Sebastian was speaking. It did not sound bad, however, and the more he listened to it, the more he was drawn in. Ciel figured that any 'vehicle' that could get him to Sebastian was better than none, and began to 'move' toward it.

"I cannot fail us this time." Ciel heard Stolas say in between the spells the man was reciting. Ciel wondered just when he had 'failed' them both, but sent his own thoughts of 'trust' toward Stolas. He thought he heard the man exhale, only to once again break into another string of spells, this one seemingly more complicated than all the rest. Ciel waited, then just to offer the 'morale support', he began to pray.

"If you are listening, this time, give 'him' back what he has lost, and if this is something that you cannot just 'give', use everything that I still have in me, and everything that I am, and everything that I stand for, to 'make' it happen. You are the one with all the power. You know what we are and who we are. Please, _make it happen_."

_

* * *

_

Shop of Undertaker,

_An Unnamed Street,_

_Downtown, London, England_

_Same Time_

Undertaker continued to watch as the crown's remaining carefully-weaved gold and silver began to untangle themselves seemingly in an orderly fashion, as if they remembered the way Stolas' spells had weaved them in the first place. Once both silver and gold had been completely separated into lumps of metal, they began forming the distinct shape of a 'blade' and 'hilt' in the air. Before long, the two metals joined themselves into a brand new 'sword'.

Undertaker was speechless, not having expected – not even in his wildest imagination – such a turn of events. He knew that Stolas created this crown with his own hands, using hand-picked stones and a lot of time and care while waving various protective spells straight into the metal. Undertaker also remembered how the emissaries, Spears, and Stolas himself telling him never to touch it bare-handed or he would be killed instantly.

Trusting that the metals were acting only in order to 'protect' the prince when he needed it the most, Undertaker pointed the blade's edge toward the prince's larger cocoon with his death scythe.

"If it is your master Stolas who is calling for your help, here is where he lies. Help him in any way you can." Undertaker said, then watched as the blade sailed directly toward – then into – the prince's cocoon. He winced when the blade cut right through the skin and a bloody, pinkish fluid became visible. The blade then began cutting further and further, until it cut nearly half the cocoon's length. Undertaker grimaced when he caught glimpses of what was unmistakably 'bone fragments' swimming within it.

It was with sheer force of will that Undertaker stopped himself from grabbing the blade when it turned 180-degrees to sail toward – and once again into – the smaller cocoon of Ciel Phantomhive and began making another incision in the exact same spot, although it stopped once again around half the cocoon's length. Undertaker took a look within the earl's opened cocoon and grimaced harder as he saw groups of what seemed to be the larger muscle groups, along with freshly-detached ribs and whatever remained of his major organs.

"You BETTER KNOW what you are doing." Undertaker growled at the dagger as it rested itself once again in the air.

As if to answer Undertaker, the surfaces of both cocoons emitted a blight flash – though only for a moment – and with what could only be called a 'splash' what used to be Ciel Phantomhive began to flow right into the larger cocoon of his 'lord' to truly merge together.

Now afraid of the precious fluids spilling out of the cocoons, Undertaker searched the room for something which the cocoons could use as a 'container', but before he could do anything else, the same dagger began to once again disintegrate in the air, to form a 'web' of sort which closely resembled the patterns crown once used to sport, and began stretching themselves thinner and further, to eventually form what can only be described as 'a web' or a 'net' of sort. Undertaker watched as it wrapped itself around the two cocoons, to squeeze them together until both cocoons were completely covered by it.

"If this is not an act of love, I don't know what is." Undertaker muttered to himself. Undertaker wanted to watch them closer, but the sand of various precious stones soon began to coat the merged cocoon liberally, most probably to further solidify the wall of the cocoon, and to obscure the view from any outsider. Undertaker then guessed that the process was 'closed to all audience." He sighed, realizing he could only wait.

Of the three successful cases of metamorphosis, none lived long or successfully transformed into an angel. However, none of them had the wisdom nor a partner from which they could 'borrow' strength from nor be given the added power of love such as the one Ciel was providing Stolas with.

Undertaker wondered what Rasiel, the arch angel who is in charge of keeping 'the Book of Miracles' would write about this one, and snickered to himself.

_

* * *

_

Sebastian & Ciel's Consciousness

_Inside the cocoon_

_Same Time_

When Ciel felt himself approach closer, he heard Stolas gasp again, before his voice continued.

"Come to me, Ciel. I am here. I am here. Find me. Come to me, Ciel Phantomhive, my dearest soul."

Ciel felt relief as he felt himself being 'pulled' – and straight 'into' something else.

"Sebastian, I am here. I am here."

Ciel managed to utter, feeling that, as he came closer to Stolas' consciousness, more difficult it became to think, to 'remain ' himself. Sensing that this very _**'sense of self'**_ was exactly what needed to be lost in this situation, Ciel uttered his last words, with his remaining consciousness.

"_I am yours, and I love you._"

…To which, he thought he heard 'Sebastian' say,

"_I have you, I thank you, and I love you, too._"

Then the next moment, all was sucked into the powerful 'vortex' as the two merged, completely, in every sense of the word.

_

* * *

_

Shop of Undertaker,

_An Unnamed Street,_

_Downtown, London, England_

_Same Time_

Undertaker patiently waited for more signs as he also waited for any words from 'above'. However, after going for 2days of virtually no activity the old death god's body demanded sleep which death gods – unlike demons – required. He was asleep, still seated behind the counter – before he could do anything about it.

Just as the cocoon turned grass-green in color, the whole shop released a loud squeak and the ground shook violently with enough force to knock various items off of the shelves. Undertaker nervously spared a glance toward the windows – and to the human realm beyond – and felt the usual cacophony of 'vibes' from the myriad living creatures on Earth.

Just as Undertaker began penning a message to the Great Death God, a familiar 'whoosh' was heard and with it the familiar figure of William T. Spears came into view.

"Sir Undertaker, I am back and I am with…" William T. Spears got that far before the sight of the giant cocoon came into view. Undertaker was about to make fan of the situation until he noticed the very familiar presence behind the wide-eyed Spears. Undertaker immediately got to his feet and bowed deeply.

"My lord Raguel, it is an honor to finally meet you down here in person." Undertaker greeted the arch angel, not having seen him for the past millennium. The great angel smiled gently at his old friend then asked him to drop the formalities and be at ease.

"Afterall, this is your realm and I am an unannounced visitor." Raguel said. To this, Undertaker chuckled.

"Thank you, my lord. Although the seriousness of the situation affords me very little room for rest." Undertaker replied then gestured though needlessly toward the now giant cocoon that filed up more than half of the shop space. Raguel nodded, then regarded the two cinematic records that now lay on the couch, barely a few centimeters from the outer edge of the black puddle of filth Undertaker was yet able to get rid of.

"I see that you still have some work left to do here." Raguel commented and picked up the cinematic records, then smiled at the black-covered volume belonging to the demon-angel crossbreed.

"May I?" Raguel asked and sat down to 'read' it upon receiving approval from Undertaker.

Realizing that Spears was still wordlessly taking in every minute detail of the cocoon without touching it, Undertaker tapped the younger man's shoulder, making him jump. He then set Spears to work and finished the rest of the cleaning job with the holy water. Spears grimaced the entire time, wrinkling his nose at the distinctly-demonic almost putrid smell of the 'filth'.

"You weren't here when it was pouring out of the prince, Spears. Be glad." Undertaker commented then giggled as he saw the younger man shudder.

Once all the 'filth' had been drained and all the tools – even the floor cloths, the mop, Stolas' formal clothes, barrels emptied of used holy water and even the throw pillows and their gloves had been turned to a large pile of ashes – which had threatened to blow the overused incinerator apart with the burst of sheer 'demonic' energy which had been soaked into these items – they were finally done.

The shop was once again smelling of the incense and formaldehyde and other various forms of disinfectants. They were then met with Raguel who laid a hand upon Undertaker's shoulder.

"Undertaker, my friend. I thank you deeply for your hospitality and I must beg your pardon for my rudeness but I must be off. I must inform the others of what has happened, and a group of 'our' emissaries will arrive very soon to …collect this 'creature' to our realm – as you must already know." Raguel smiled as Undertaker nodded. "This was a real clever idea, Undertaker. Really clever." The arch angel commented as he handed the books back to the older death god.

"Of course, my friend in heaven. Take him off of our hands before the 'others' begin acting irrationally again." Undertaker cautioned and watched as the angel leaped with a burst of bright light back to Heaven.

"Sir, may I ask just what has happened here?" Spears asked once they were alone with the cocoon.

"This is the Metamorphosis, Spears. Now we wait – for this thing to be ready to 'hatch'."

"So, the process has been completed without complications?" The younger man asked impatiently.

"Not yet. The actual 'hatching' completes the Metamorphosis."

"Oh, this is… Wait, why is this green?" Spears said, running the very tips of his fingers gingerly over the rough surface of the cocoon, then realizing that the very base of the cocoon was grass-green.

"Do you remember the color of the healing potion we kept shoving down Stolas' throat?"

"…Oh."

"That, and the 'absence' of excess 'darkness' from the prince's soul turned its shell in a clearer color from the tar-black it used to be."

"How long will it be, before it actually hatches?"

"There's no telling when. So, why don't you start telling me what has been happening to you up in the heavens? I assumed that our mutual superior sent you up there in his stead." Undertaker said, pointing at the diplomat's pin on Spears' jacket lapel. Spears took a good long moment to organize his thoughts, then tried to speak but stopped mid-way to think further, before shaking his head.

"Sir, I will just have to stick to the 'official business' part of my report for now."

Undertaker stared at Spears for a long moment, not used to seeing the elite death god have such trouble forming words. He nodded.

"Take all the time you need. I just haven't been up there in a great long while."

"Very well, sir." Spears replied, then took a seat in the only remaining (surviving) couch in the shop with a great sigh. Undertaker watched silently. He had a feeling that this was going to be 'very' interesting.

* * *

*This concludes the 'Metamorphosis' chapter. :D Boy, am I relieved! 16 months in the making! :D

*Next up: Epilogue 'Milestone'


	16. Chapter 11 Milestone Epilogue

*Yeyyyyy~, I am here! :'D

*To Black-Neko-Chan, SomethingSomeoneSaid, blood and rain, and Hyper Kid007: You have given me the strength to believe in myself to do this story justice. You were my knights in shining armor, my beacons, my saviors. I love you all dearly.

*Note: Stolas' (CieBas' now... ha, ha...) baby's name was GoodbyeMyHeart's idea. It had been decided a very, very long time ago, and I can finally use it. :P

*This story has a sequal titled "The Ambassador", but I think it will be kinda easy to see what it's about once you read through this Epilogue. :D

*Please also note that, from this point on, 'Sebastian', 'Stolas', and 'Ciel Phantomhive' all exist as one being. Therefore, I will have to refer to this chapter and the sequal as a ('CieBas' X OC) story. :P

*An apology: I generally do all my typing whenever my left wrist isn't bothering me, so please bear with me. :'S

*The Latest Source of Inspiration 1: "New World Concerto" by Dvořák

*The Latest Source of Inspiration 2: A song, "Hallellujah" by Rufus Wainwright

(There's a beautiful music video out on You Tube with the same theme song, but with a different singer. Go check it out.)

Please, please do enjoy this conclusion part... *bow*

* * *

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Epilogue: Milestone

Written by: Second Wind

* * *

_Holy Cleansing Pool_

_Ceremonial Ground,_

_Christian Kingdom_

_12 Hours After the Lift of Blockade_

William T. Spears stood a short distance away from the smooth stone-based circular pool, dressed this time in his best and 'most formal' attire which included all the medals and awards he had ever received in his career.

However, the black fabric of his outfit made each one stand out, thus making him look like a cross between a military officer and a law enforcement officer. Others asked him about each one, since a majority of them had never actualy seen death gods of his rank before. Spears answered as humbly and briefly as possible, but he did not know what to make of this particular situation.

He knew that it was a high honor to be doing what he was doing, standing next to Undertaker and the arch angels, all dressed formally in addition to a few special representatives of other religious kingdoms who were all in their own respective attires gathered around a small circular pool filled with a mixture of holy water as well as the purest water the heaven's messengers could find from the mortal realm.

Normally, if the attendees were all citizens of the Christian Kingdom, Spears would never feel so distinctly 'out of place'. However, he was currently sandwiched in between the black-clad Undertaker and a very 'large' woman with long braided hair in which a colorful ribbon had been woven to accentuate the shine of her black tresses. This same woman also happened to be dressed in an almost scandalously-revealing outfit which was unmistakably made of a mysterious animal skin.

Spears made a few attempts at making a conversation, but she began speaking in an unfamiliar foreign tongue, and his efforts at socializing had failed. He also could not stand the giggles Undertaker sent his way.

He looked for the familiar faces of the angels he had become acquainted with during his stay here in heaven, but was saddened to see that they were not within his sight. He secretly hoped he would have the time to find them among the sea of spectators later on.

The 'Holy Bath' as some would call it, would have been toxic to the one who was about to enter the water, but if all goes well, that should not be the case.

If something was to go wrong and the 'being' failed to survive, then the two death gods were to swiftly end its suffering by reaping the soul of the said 'being'. The other duty of the death gods was to notify the Underworld – or to be short 'Hell', whether or not this being that is about to be born survived or not. William could not get out of these duties either way.

Soon, the sound of harps, flutes and angelic voices drifted toward the spectators, signaling the start of the ceremony. William quickly searched for another familiar face among the musicians, but was saddened once again to find none. He hurriedly shook his head, shaking off these selfish, non-work-related thoughts from his head. He sighed, silently reprimanding himself for becoming distracted at a time like this.

There was no grand speech to be given, for the process needed to begin swiftly. The cocoon will not be able to hold itself much longer, since it has began to crack and 'ooze' the moment it arrived in heaven. The dissolving of its shell steadily progressed in Raphael's infirmary throughout the entire day.

Seven greatest arch angels entered the circle of watchers shortly after the musicians with a stretcher bearing the giant cocoon, hopefully with the merged 'angel' version of what was once the angel/demon crossbreed: Prince Stolas - a crowned prince of hell; and the soul of one troubled but undoubtedly pure noble human boy: Ciel Phantomhive.

Undertaker proudly watched as the sight of the grass-green cocoon drew the 'ooooh's and 'ahhhh's from the spectators. The music continued as the weeping cocoon was lowered over the water, the yellowish transparent liquid dripping out of the shell starting to mix with the water.

The moment the two liquids touched each other, however, the water instantly turned silvery, then to pale blue. The crowd cheered instantly, dancing lightly and singing – for they had a confirmation that whatever that the cocoon held was not evil.

If it had been a dark creature of any kind – say, a demon or any other form of creature who undoubtedly belonged in Hell, the water would have either turned pitch black or blood-red in color. Now, all they had to do was hope that this 'holy' creature would actually survive the process of coming out of the shell and wake up - since that was where many creatures like this one failed to succeed.

'But,' William thought, 'they did not have souls who had been good enough match with their masters.' This was what set Stolas apart from his fellows. 'And even less had the skill and courage necessary to come up with a way to mergetheir own souls with someone else's.'

Yes. What they were all staking their futures on, was this very point: that, Ciel Phantomhive and Prince Stolas – or, 'Sebastian' as the prince secretly preferred to be called – were a true 'match made in heaven'. …Well, in between 'Earth', 'Hell,' and 'Heaven'.

The arch angels stepped forward and with the tips of their respective shining blades raised in unison, approached the cocoon and said their prayers.

The four shining blades barely caressed the surface of the cocoon, but the hard shell broke instantly as if it was nothing but a thin paper, splashing its surplus fluid into the cleansing pool and making everyone gasp as they were all drenched in the water mixture and the silvery substance from the cocoon.

Something bluish and pale dropped into the water the next moment, and the remaining shell of the cocoon quickly dissolved in front of their eyes.

Everyone talked all at once in various languages as they forgot about the state of their own wardrobes and gathered quickly around the holy pool again to see… a naked human-like form of a man.

"OHHH!"

"How extraordinary!"

"It's a miracle!"

"It's …beautiful!"

The angels who were the appointed cocoon bearers exclaimed in unison. The arch angels all breathed a sigh of relief as they quickly made sure the figure was alive by patting and stroking its back and helped it cough up the fluid from its lungs.

"Camael, help me." Raphael asked as he placed both hands flat-palmed over the figure's chest, releasing powerful energy currents from within himself, and spreading his own wings to their full lengths in order to generate maximum powers as an effort to stabilize the hyperactive heart.

Camael realized what Raphael was asking him to do, and released his own energy to search for, then covering, the spot a little below the other healer's open palms, where the freshly merged soul was releasing an incredible amount of energy at an unsteady rhythm.

"Just as I thought." Raphael commented as he worked to stabilize the figure's heart, for it felt as if it was either jumping with joy or was in shock from being awakened after hibernation.

"I second your sentiment." Camael commented, his now-shining eyes clearly seeing where the two souls joined, and how the demon prince's soul acted as the base over which the former child earl's soul wrapped itself around. The still-random busts of energy this merged soul was releasing into the atmosphere told him the level of bond these two souls shared.

"I cannot completely cure… or to erase… this defect in his heart. It is a miracle that the heart lasted for this long without major complications. Having not had much 'nourishment' prior to going into Metamorphosis did not help his recovery, either. ...That millennium-long confinement down in the filthy dungeon only worsened the damages he was born with. …On the other hand, maybe the Almighty meant for this heart to be 'kept safe', away from the battlefields." Raphael commented as he scanned the figure's heart as much as he could. "But still…" Raphael added, "this is one 'good' heart."

"This is… undoubtedly one of the most beautiful souls I have ever seen." Camael voiced his thoughts, and sent a particularly powerful current of energy to the merged soul to 'be at ease'. The soul received the signal, sensing that it was now safe for it to relax. The soul calmed down at once.

The remaining angels then began the task of cleaning up the creature with more holy water and what looked like a cloth made of silk and began giving the creature its first bath.

William watched the entire process from a short distance away, trying to wipe out as much of the silvery substance he was drenched with earlier as he could with just a hand.

"Ohhhh. Will, come here, you won't believe your eyes!" Undertaker positively 'squeaked' as more of the creature was revealed after the silvery liquid was washed away from its body.

The arch angels themselves spoke to each other in hushed yet unmistakably excited tones as some washed the creature's hair out thoroughly while others kept washing the arms and the legs, with Raphael paying special attention to the creature's back – where the wings, if it had them, would come out eventually.

William went to them, an unexplainable quick beating of his heart urging him on. What came into his view, though, was beyond all his imaginings.

The decidedly human-shaped creature that lay in the arms of some of the heaven's most powerful angels was positively sparkling with its pearly-white skin, slender frame and a head full of soft sky-blue hair. One thing was certain, though. It had a fixed gender of 'male', unlike the pure-blooded, true angels who had both at birth and could change from one to the other.

"He is… blue." William muttered to himself, as if that wasn't obvious.

"Very well, then. Let us turn him over, gently. We need to clean his wings and make sure there is no deformity." Raphael said as he covered the creature's exposed torso with another piece of large dry silk, draping the material around the newly-born angel carefully and tied the ends of the fabric loosely.

The creature did not yet have his wings out, but as Raphael approached again and lightly ran his hands over his entire back and hummed a beautiful tune, a pair of 'bumps' began to form beneath the newly-born angel's shoulder blades. Raphael's tense face broke into a genuine smile at the sight.

A loud cheer and shock went up as the wings very slowly emerged. The bones were not yet fully solidified, and they seemed very fragile and pale to the outsiders' eyes.

"These need a lot of direct sunlight. Stand back, everyone." Raphael commanded, and everyone stepped back in unison by a few meters. When Raphael was happy with their distance, he continued on, coaxing the wings out of the angel's body. The smile he wore grew bigger as more and more of the wings came into view. Next to Raphael, Michael let out a chuckle.

"Why… This is the first time I have ever seen …a pair of _blue_ wings on an angel." Michael muttered, watching closely as Gabriel came up next to him.

"That is not the only unique feature." The angel of water commented.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, his curiosity piqued but it was Raguel who had been carefully quiet up until this point, who answered the question.

"These wings are no ordinary dove's wings. These are far larger in size and width. ..Prince Stolas originally had raven's wings, did he not?" He asked, to which Rasiel replied, pointing to the base of the newly-born angel's wings.

"Yes, he did. Or at least that is the impression I got from his cinematic record once I was allowed access to it. Lilith snapped them right out of his back. Look, there's the evidence right there." The arch angels – with the exception of Uriel, approached closer to finally see the very root of the sky-blue wings. They were pitch-black; their original color.

"That must have felt … worse than any word I can come up with." Raphael sighed. As a healer, he had of course seen just about every manner of injuries done to angels' wings and the consequences that followed thereafter. However, he had never seen a survivor with such blatant, messy break in his entire career. It was one thing to watch it in 'cinematic record' or to read it in the form of a book. It was quite another to actually see the wound – and touch it – with his own eyes and hands.

"One thing is for certain. He will not be returning to his former 'King' ever again."

Everyone snapped to attention at the commanding voice of…

"My lord Metatron! I… forgive me. I had no knowledge that you would be attending this ceremony." Uriel hurried to the Celestial Scribe, and got down on one knee to show his respect.

"Be at ease, Uriel. Something in my heart told me to join you on this occasion. …A successful metamorphosis. This truly is a memorable occasion."

"The Celestial Scribe is right! He will not survive down there for any extended periods of time. The air is too toxic, and the portal would not open for him anyways."

"- Unless we give him the means of transport he needs."

"My lord Uriel, what are you saying?" Gabriel protested but Uriel shook his head, silently commanding the angel to give him time to speak. Everyone listened intently even as Raphael kept tending to the blue wings on the new angel. Uriel continued as he watched Raphael work.

"We need to hold a trial …the final judgment must be read and handed out to him, even just for the formality's sake. When we set everything out in the open the details of which the Death Gods here must be aware, we will let this angel speak and then we hold a council in the presence of Lord Metatron and decide what his future holds."

Raphael spoke next, seeing that Uriel was done.

"As we all know, this particular angel holds the key to open many doors in our search for the way to keep peace in between our three worlds. We need to take every precaution and do so while we 'educate' him properly and to the best of our abilities."

"Well, we are going to need to appoint someone specifically to give him flying lessons. He has almost never used wings during taking human form, has he?" Michael commented.

"No, almost never." Raphael replied touching and cleaning the angel's new pair of wings with painstaking care, and paying particular attention to the base of these wings, where two different colored, and two different types of wings, joined. He then ran a hand gingerly down the angel's back, to the base of its spine, marveling at the sheer size and width of these wings.

"He will have a tough time using these. That is for certain. These can almost reach down to his ankles when they are 'at rest'. These also remind me of the way multiple pairs of wings grow upon a single angel's back. But these are decidedly a single pair. …I have never seen such an occurrence before." Raphael explained as he investigated further.

"Most of the time, the shoulder blades get the first pair, then the base of the rib cage get the second pair, with the both sides of the upper hip bones get the third pair. The last 3 pairs grow attached to both sides of the spine." Uriel commented, watching the angel's wings closer as Raphael continued to work on them. "This is certainly the first I have seen ...a single, dual-based pair. Maybe the Almighty gave him the brand new base, in addition to the one Ciel Phantomhive helped grow." Uriel was thinking aloud, but felt in his heart that he was correct.

"He will need higher chairs when he is seated, or just keep his wings concealed while sitting down. He is bound to get muscle cramps if he had to keep them slightly raised." Raphael assessed as he kept the stroking motion to get the blood circulation going in the wings.

Rasiel watched closely, making sure that this event will forever be etched into his memory. This definitely was one for 'The Book', as in the book of miracles he was in charge of keeping.

The once-transparent wings began to solidify further darkening the blue of the feathers covering the bones and the thick skin upon the wings.

"Very well. I think they are solid enough now. Let us try stretching them now." Raphael said as he began lifting the wings from the back of the still-unconscious angel, and pulled them up to their standing position. His other hand continued massaging the entire back as the newly-formed wings stretched themselves to their limits.

A new chorus of 'ohhhhh's and 'ahhhhh's erupted from their nearly-forgotten audience. Michael opened his eyes wider with surprise.

"My goodness! How magnificent! Think of what he can do with in a battle with these on his back! These will carry him afar, but if he can learn to catch the wind and learn how use storm clouds to his favor, he will be practically shooting up and own all three levels with ease." Michael was excited, seeing the thickness of the bones and the muscles quickly making their presence known in the wings and the once-demon's entire torso.

"He did keep himself in quite a good shape, did he not?" Gabriel commented. "If he can handle the combat lessons and learn to use these wings to their fullest abilities, and then still manage to retain that sharp, powerful mind of his…" She kept on, not hiding the hopeful look on her face.

"Raphael, please stay with him in your infirmary until he is well out of danger. Raguel, please prepare for this one's trial with me. Gabriel, please try spreading the word that he process has ended in success but that it is still too early to tell if he is capable of what we all hope he is capable of. Michael, please watch out for this one's safety and settle any disagreements or unrest among any being residing or visiting here in heaven. Sariel, please do the same with the humans - especially with any and all known demon contractors belonging to our kingdom down on earth. Maybe the death gods can assist us with informations reagarding such individuals. Lastly…"

Uriel turned around to face the Celestial Scribe. "My lord Metatron, I would like your approval on the orders I have just given, so that we may finally move forward." Uriel finished, bowing deeply once again in the show of respect. Metatron nodded.

"Approved." The king of all angels replied.

"Thank you, my lord." Uriel replied. The arch angels then moved accordingly, shaking hands with some of the audience members to celebrate their success. A group of angels began cleaning up the holy pool and cover what was once Prince Stolas' body fully with large pieces of soft, long cloth-like material before Raphael began issuing instructions for transport.

"Then, let us draw this ceremony to a close, and disband. I would like to thank all of you for your attendance and support." Uriel announced with an air of finality.

There were clear, strong "hear, hear" and "Lord bless thee" and "farewell" as the audience all left the ceremonial ground for 'merriment' which had been prepared by the angels for everyone to enjoy.

* * *

_Private Palace of Uriel _

_Undisclosed Location_

_Christian Kingdom_

_2 Hours Later, Same Day_

Camael watched as a guard knocked on the familiar door to Uriel's study, and waited for the permission to enter. Just as the door was opened for Camael, the angel of pure love and healing in all 'matters of the heart' saw Raphael heading his way. A slight jump of his eyebrows and a hand gesture indicated that the healer of all physical ailments had also been summoned by the foreseer.

Uriel stood up from his seat behind the massive crystal desk to greet his visitors, and indicated the two chairs for them to be seated in. Once all three angels had been seated, Uriel began.

"My friends. I have asked you to come here, because this is in regard to an extremely sensitive matter concerning the Metamorphosis which was just concluded." The two angels leaned closer to their superior once the magic word was spoken. Uriel continued after a pause. "I have also asked you both here, my healers, for a consult. This is also in relation to the Metamorphosis, but at the same time, a preparation for what is to come if my vision is correct."

The two angels nodded their heads, signaling for Uriel to continue.

"First of all, Raphael, it is about time for you to settle one of your issues concerning Prince Stolas, and your dealings regarding lord Asmodeus." Uriel watched as Raphael's expression registered a genuine surprise. Camael, however, leaned back in his chair.

"Pardon?" Raphael asked, his eyes demanding further explanations. Uriel nodded.

"This has been bothering me for a while. Capturing and banishing Asmodeus was one of the greatest accomplishments of your career. However, you were most likely unaware of the existence of Prince Stolas as the son of Asmodeus, and as the last heir at the time, were you not?"

"That is correct, my lord."

"Nor the fact that lord Asmodeus actually 'married' that fallen angel."

"That is also correct, my lord."

"As you yourself have stated in your recent report to me, the prince possesses vast knowledge in medicine, and in healing."

"Yes, my lord."

"Therefore, it is my conclusion that the prince – if he succeeds – should be placed under your care, not just as a patient but also as an apprentice, until it is time for him to move on."

"My lord Uriel, it sure is a… possibility that he will be an asset to the medical community. However, he will need a whole lot of time to adjust…" Raphael left his sentence unfinished as many thoughts, theories and ideas began circling in his head. Camael raised his hand for a permission to speak, which Uriel granted with a nod.

"My lords, I must confess that I knew this matter has been bothering Raphael ever since he learned of this fact as well. I could feel it every time he was near me. The only concern I have with the particular arrangement lord Uriel has just announced, is not about the adjustment issues, but about how much of that incident the prince actually knows."

"That is a very good point, Camael, and that precisely brings me to the next point." Uriel stated before addressing Raphael once again.

"We should confirm this with the death gods, but I had not seen any indication that Prince Stolas is aware of just who had captured Asmodeus in the first place, because he has never even spoken about you in relation to his father's banishment. He only ever spoke about you as a fellow healer. There is also nothing in any of our official report just what lord Lucifer has told Prince Stolas or to his mother about the incident."

"Which will prove disastrous when you two do start working together." Camael chipped in.

"Very well. I will explain myself to him when the opportunity arises." Raphael nodded.

"And please stop feeling guilty about it." Camael drove his point, to which Raphael raised his eyebrows. "I am an expert in the matter of the heart, my fellow healer Raphael." Camael stated, then smiled when the angel sighed.

"All angels are strictly forbidden to aid a fallen angel, for any reason, unless they are specifically ordered to do so by either the Celestial Scribe Metatron, myself, or by Raguel. Not even Michael is allowed to even cross the border to Underworld without proper authorization. You can explain that to him." Uriel offered, to which Raphael nodded. Camael once again raised his hand to speak, and Uriel silently waved his hand, indicating that Camael can drop the formalities.

"I suggest that Raphael does so in my presence. Since we are operating on the assumption that this metamorphosis was indeed successful, I will be working very closely with him once he 'wakes up'."

"Very well. There is another issue I would like to address at this time." Uriel continued. "I have seen some disturbing images, and the Celestial Scribe agrees with my vision on this matter. I will be discussing this more in detail with Raguel later on, but there seems to be some …inner conflicts happening in the future concerning this Metamorphosis." Uriel paused to let his words sink in. The two angels nodded.

"We need to be alert for any attempt on the angel's life, and any attempts that will be made in order to tempt him into becoming one of the 'fallen'."

"Well then, it seems that I will have a mountain of work cut out for me, my lord. Otherwise, it will be Raphael who will get busier healing the physically-wounded." Camael smiled again to keep their conversation light. Both Uriel and Raphael recognized this, and the three shook hands and Uriel dismissed them, satisfied.

* * *

_Private Prayer Room_

_Private Palace of Celestial Scribe Metatron _

_Undisclosed Location_

_Christian Kingdom_

_1 Hours Later_

Metatron sat in the middle of the bare floor of his prayer room, organizing his thoughts. His mind was made up now, and God Almighty has thus far voiced no objection.

"Then, with your permission, I shall move the plans into action. Give me a sign if you object." Metatron said in a way of seeking confirmation.

Silence.

"Very well, then. It is decided." Metatron said as he began to stand and leave the prayer room to head toward his private study.

As far as the Celestial Scribe knew, nothing like this – certainly nothing of this scale and magnitude – has ever been attempted before in his kingdom or others.

_A hundred and twenty years to unite… just as many religious kingdoms in existence. Can we do it? _

Metatron asked himself, and told himself to fuel his efforts by this powerful sense of _'self-doubt'_, the first he had felt since the last 'Great War'.

Christianity and Catholicism are fast-becoming the 'super-powers' within all religious kingdoms in existence. This was preceisely why they had to be the one to make the first moves.

'First thing first,' Metatron thought, 'I must choose the correct individuals for this work.'

Metatron once again withdrew into himself, waiting for the answers to come to him.

* * *

_Private Infirmary of Raphael _

_Private Estate of Raphael_

_Undisclosed Location, Christian Kingdom_

_5 Hours Later_

Awareness gradually enveloped his exhausted mind.

Images floated in and out of his memories, both familiar and foreign, yet they belonged to… to…

"Who?"

His eyes snapped open, startled out of his 'very' long sleep by his own voice.

"Pardon?"

A voice asked, an unfamiliar one that also sounded as equally startled as he did just before. The relatively-short figure of about 15 to 16 years in human age who was dressed in a pale green gown released a long breath and straightened itself. "I see that you are awake. I will alert for my master soon." The soothing voice of his caretaker gave him an almost eely sense of relief and comfort: the two things which the primary half of the figure was really unfamiliar with, although the other half of him was very much at ease with.

Then, a load of his memories returned out of the blue, and a thought emerged: "What is for breakfast today? I would really love to have some freshly-baked scones…'

"Ciel!" The name spilled from his mouth before he could process it fully. He shook his head, not understanding what was happening and then his own thoughts returning: 'Maybe some green tea, infused with a bit of lemon grass and a tiny bit of honey would go nicely. Especially with crystallized ginger slices and baked apple slices with golden raisins…'

This was weird to say the least, because it felt like a whole conversation was happening right inside of his head. He shook his head to clear it, when approaching footsteps drew his attention to the here and now.

"Ah. We were wondering how much longer it will be before you decided to join us." An unfamiliar voice captured his attention from a short distance away. When he turned his head to locate the owner of the voice, he was met by a magnificent-looking, undoubtedly noble ranked angel. The angel stood in the doorway to his bare room, smiling down on him.

The angel's smile awoke certain warm feeling within his chest, as if his heart – and soul – rejoiced upon recognizing this angel's voice and aura. However, his mind had other ideas as it issued a warning in his mind.

He was in an angel's presence – in a vulnerable position – and he couldn't remember why. He quickly jumped to his feet, starting the other occupants of the huge circular room. However, he immediately felt all strength leave him the very moment he stood, thus making him hobble on his now unsteady feet.

"Settle down! You are not yet strong enough!" The angel exclaimed, catching him in his startlingly strong arms as if he was a frail child or …a very sick person. He still couldn't help but struggle against those arms, even though he had no idea why. The arms let go of him then, and he fell back onto the soft mattress on which he was slumbering on earlier.

"Master Raphael, what must we do?" The caretaker asked the angel who looked his now round-eyed patient. The name was all too familiar. Another load of memories returned to him then, and the force with which the recollection came made his head ache.

"Raph… Did you just say… Raphael? The arch angel?" The patient asked, and the physician smiled. The physician watched as his newest patient began breathing roughly to recover from the shock.

The waves and waves of memories kept assaulting his senses from all sides, clearly belonging to two different individuals, but playing all at once within his head as if he was reliving them.

Raphael watched the patient struggle with himself, and with his memories.

"Must we alert lord Camael?" The young caretaker / medical assistant asked his master, but Raphael shook his head 'no'.

"Give him time. We have never had anyone like him to care for before. In the mean time, please let the " The arch angel told the much younger caretaker as he stepped closer toward his patient.

"I believe that an introduction is now in order. I am Raphael, as you just heard. I am an arch angel and a healer by trade. May I ask what you would like to be called?" Raphael asked in the normal tone of voice, to which the patient responded with a nod. Raphael then walked over to a self-filling crystal pitcher filled with some faintly-glowing liquid. He took an upturned white mug in which he poured some of the liquid, then handed it over to the patient.

It took a moment before the patient replied verbally, still somewhat awkwardly, but no longer frightened.

"…Since this is the name I hold dear, I think I would like to be called 'Ciel'. If not, I will settle for 'Sebastian'." The patient answered in a far more stable voice.

Raphael chuckled as if he was sharing an inside joke, and 'Ciel' understood that Raphael knew everything.

"Good choice. Since there is no requirement of a last name, I believe 'Ciel' is the most fitting choice." Raphael smiled wider.

"…Did we succeed?" _Ciel _asked, wanting confirmation.

"Obviously. How much do you remember?" Raphael asked, trying to act calm because this was the point which will determine what course of action to take for the angels.

"Ahhh… A lot." Ciel mumbled as he tried to get a hold of the raging tide of emotions and memories, including the sounds and scents that accompanied each memory. Out loud, he said, "Yet, I am still in a process… of sorting things out."

"Take your time, by all means." Raphael said as he issued instruction for a cup of tea and watched as the caretaker hurried out of the room.

"I… feel and think in… it is strange, having to think about something and saying something different in the back of my head." Ciel said, trying to piece to together 'his own' thoughts and feelings, instead of trying to decide which 'side' he belonged.

"You have the young earl's soul inside you, and it filled the void so to speak, of your former demon's soul. You look …your new soul looks… truly breath-taking." Raphael said as he rocked gaze with Ciel.

"My… soul?" Ciel muttered, and for once, 'Ciel Phantomhive's' voice in his head asked in unison.

"Yes. It looks… truly amazing."

"How… does it look to you? Now?" He could not help asking Raphael. A genuine smile broke over the angel healer's beautiful face upon hearing the question.

"Like the Earth. Camael was right."

"What do you mean by that, lord Raphael?"

"You will know soon enough, 'Ciel'." Raphael said as he straightened himself, and moved to leave the room.

"WAIT! Please! …My lord Raphael, where am I?"

Ciel had to know. Raphael instantly saw why, and smiled again.

"You are inside a private sanatorium located within a private infirmary inside my own assigned territory." Raphael thoroughly enjoyed the younger man's reaction. Ciel's eyes grew even larger, and Raphael realized this part – as well as the look of 'relative youth' the former prince now sported – came from Ciel Phantomhive as well.

"Your..? But then, that means that I am…" Ciel was afraid to mouth the words. Raphael nodded.

"In heaven, yes. Welcome, my fellow angel: Ciel."

That did the trick. Ciel nodded as the first of his many tears of joy began to fall.

_We did it._

_

* * *

_

The Office of Great Death God

Death God Management Department - Dispatch Division

Noon, Next Day

The veteran death god heard a series of soft knocking on his office door, and went to answer it himself instead of the usual shout of 'come in!'.

He had been expecting Undertaker to arrive at this office within the day, but his old colleague came precisely at noon.

"Hello, old friend." Undertaker greeted the older man with a pat on the man's shoulder, then struggled to fit his massive sythe through the ancient door.

"You came armed today?" The great death god chuckled, seeing the sight of the very long and sharp weapon.

"Only for the show, mind you. Besides, it was an order from 'above' to strengthen our defense forces. I could not leave my sythe to laze around in my lonely shop. Hee, hee, hee." Undertaker giggled.

"Ah, well. This is quite a memorable occasion. We could use a strong demonstration of power here." The veteran death god said. "Which brings us to the point..." He said as he gestured Undertaker toward a guest chair.

"So, you received word that it is now the good timing to do 'the honors'?" Undertaker asked, receiving a nod in reply.

"Yes. Now, it is not only safe to name the boy, but it is imperative to do so. A name, if applied correctly, will protect the person just as much as it can curse the person for eternity if applied incorrectly. A nameless individual can be dangerous, for he or she is vulnerable toward temptations." The older man said as he poured a cup of tea for both of them.

"Mmm-hmm, we cannot have that." Undertaker said. "Actually, I do have a name in mind which I came up with after thinking carefully from all angles." Undertaker said as he traced the long handle of his death scythe with the tip of his index finger. He paused for several seconds to let the older stew over before grinning widely and announicing, "How about 'Lucius'?"

"Lucius... Comes from Latin 'Lux', meaning: 'Light'. We have a Saint Lucius from the 3rd century, I think. ...Yes, I like it very much. What about the last name?"

"That depends on his guardians and keepers. However, his first name should remain... permanent." Undertaker said, and saw the great death god nod.

"Then, Lucius it is." The great death god lapped the surface of his desk with his right hand as if to conclude this conversation, then stood from his seat.

"Let me get the official perchment, and the ink ready. You can create the document... maybe 4 copies of it, then I will dispatch my personal messengers to the holy realm of both this and the Hindu kingdom. One of the two remaining copies should be kept here with us, and the remaining one should be delivered to the Phantomhive townhouse in London. I believe the entire estate is still regarded as our realm." The great death god said, then called for his secretary to prepare the necessary tools.

'Yes, _Lucius_,' Undertaker thought, 'Almighty knows we could use as many lights as possible, to lead us through the darkness.'

* * *

*END*

(The story arc will continue in the sequel: "The Ambassador")


End file.
